Mysterious Fathoms Below
by jdmusiclover
Summary: AU. Sequel to A Wish Your Heart Makes and Getting to I Do. Emma and Killian have finally gotten married, but their honeymoon is quickly interrupted by a new threat to the Enchanted Forest-a threat that it will take everyone on land and under sea to defeat. Can Regina find Robin Hood and Roland before it's too late? Will Killian survive a battle with an old foe out for revenge?
1. Chapter 1

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

"Regina!"

Robin Hood rushed into the tent where is seven-year-old son lay sleeping. Roland had been having the old nightmare more and more frequently in the last few weeks, and when he did, he always called out for the woman they both missed more than words could say.

"Roland, lad, wake up," Robin said gently taking the little boy into his arms. "It's nothing but a dream. You're safe. Papa's here."

Roland continued crying, burrowing into his father's chest. "It was awful, papa," he murmured. "The Wicked Witch took me to her castle. Her monkeys were going to kill me."

"Sh," Robin said, stroking the boy's dark hair. "She's gone. She can't harm you anymore. It was but a dream."

The little boy raised a tear-stained face to Robin. "I miss her papa," he said, lip quivering.

"I know lad," Robin said heavily, knowing his son was not speaking of witch. "I miss her too."

So much it felt like his heart had been torn asunder. When his Marian had died many years before, Robin thought his chance for love had died with her. Then he'd met Regina and found a love so deep and true, he'd never seen its equal—except perhaps that felt by the Savior and her pirate.

But Regina had been taken from him…ripped back to Storybrooke in the Land Without Magic.

Robin had spent every spare moment during the six months she'd been gone trying to find a way he and Roland could return to her, but to this point his endeavors had been fruitless. It would appear every last method of opening a portal was gone.

Robin eased Roland back onto his sleeping pallet, brushed a kiss against the sleeping boy's forehead, and stepped back into the waiting night. A less persistent man might give up, but Robin knew he never would. When it came to reuniting with his True Love, Robin would _never_ stop until he accomplished his goals.

….

They attacked at dawn. Vicious men armed to the teeth, blood-curdling yells in their wake. Robin Hood jumped from his sleeping pallet, throwing on his clothes at break-neck speed.

"W-what is it, Papa?" Roland asked, eyes round with fright.

"I don't know, lad," Robin said, snaring his bow and quiver of arrows.

Robin crouched before the boy and looked intently into his eyes. "Roland, listen to me."

"Aye, Papa,"

"You must hide," Robin said insistently. The harsh sounds of waged battle were coming closer and closer. "No matter what you hear; no matter what you may see, you _must_ remain hidden! Do you understand me?"

Roland nodded slowly. "Aye, Papa."

Robin hugged his little boy and then headed into the fray.

It was like something out of a nightmare. Their foes fought like madmen, switching effortlessly from sword to cutlass to revolver.

But it was their leader that nearly froze the marrow in Robin's bones. The man wore a vest weighed down with every sort of weapon. He fought like a fiend, his eyes wild, his long, black beard wreathed in smoke and flame. If Robin didn't know better, he would swear he was facing the devil himself.

Robin notched an arrow to his bow and let it fly right at the leader's heart. The arrow hit its mark with a dull thud…and then continued on until it burrowed into the ground beneath him. The man turned furious eyes on Robin and then continued on his way, seemingly completely unfazed.

What was going on here? That blow should have been fatal!

Robin watched, jaw hanging slack as the demon-man moved inexorably forward…directly toward Robin's tent…the tent where his precious son hid.

"No!" Robin croaked, rushing forward. But Robin had only moved forward two steps before he felt a blinding pain at the back of his head. He sunk heavily to the ground, and then darkness closed over him.

_Storybrooke, present day_

"C'mon Mom! Rise and shine!"

Emma swam slowly from the realm of dreamland as Henry insistently shook her shoulder. It was too early. Way too early.

"Mom!" Henry said again, drawing out the single syllable.

"Alright, kid," she said, reluctantly opening her eyes and rising to a seated position. "I'm up. What's so important that you had to get me up so freaking early?"

"Early?" Henry asked with a laugh. "Mom, it's 10:00! Since when do you sleep so late? And _especially_ today!"

"10:00?" Emma asked, dragging a hand through her messy hair. "That late already?"

"Yeah," Henry said again, "and you _never_ sleep that late. You're not sick or anything, are you? You can't be sick! It's your wedding day!"

_Her wedding day_! Emma's grin blossomed into a full-blown smile. In only a few hours she would become Mrs. Killian Jones!

Emma hopped from her bed, and began tugging up the sheets. "Nothing to worry about, Kid. I just got in late last night."

"Yeah," he said, plopping down on her freshly made bed. "You weren't home when I went to bed. What were you _doing_ last night?"

"Well, don't tell your grandparents," she said sitting beside her son, "but I was hanging out with Killian."

"Well, it's hardly a secret you two like to spend time together," Henry said with a shrug. "I mean you do have true love and you're about to get married and everything."

"Yeah, well," Emma said heading for the stairs that led to the loft's first floor, "that's one visit I'd just as soon keep between us. Mary Margaret insists it's bad luck for the bride and the groom to see each other from the end of the rehearsal dinner until the wedding."

"Bad luck!" Henry scoffed, standing up to follow her. "You guys just beat Morgana Le Fay and the Wicked Witch of the West! You two could take on 'bad luck' with your hands (and hook) tied behind your backs!"

Emma brought Henry's head over for a kiss. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but you know how your grandma is. Wedding traditions have to be followed."

Emma climbed down the loft stairs and found her father stirring eggs as they cooked on the stove, and her visibly pregnant mom setting the table.

"Well, look who finally got up!" Mary Margaret said with a smile. She set down the last fork and then rushed over to greet Emma with a motherly hug.

"Hi mom!" Emma said awkwardly hugging the other woman, trying not squash her baby brother who lay in her mother's protruding belly. "Mmm! Something smells good. You guys didn't have to go to all this trouble. I could have just had cereal like always!"

"Of course we did, Emma!" Mary Margaret said earnestly. "This is the most important day of your life. We wanted to make it special. Besides, this will be the last opportunity we have to have breakfast together as a family."

Emma saw tears shining in her mother's eyes.

"Come on mom," she protested. "Don't be silly! You're not _losing_ me. Killian's just joining our family. We'll still have meals together and everything."

"But it won't be the same!" Mary Margaret insisted, waving Emma to the table and pouring her a mug of strong, black coffee. "After today, you and Killian and Henry will be living at your new house by the docks. We won't have these leisurely family breakfasts together anymore. It's going to be so quiet around here without you and Henry! Your father and I will get bored."

Impulsively, Emma embraced her mother again. "Don't worry. Killian and I will visit all the time. And as far as it being quiet and boring? Enjoy it while you can. This is Storybrooke after all. It's only a matter of time before the next evil villain descends on us trying to take over the world."

…..

Killian shifted nervously, staring at the clock on the convent wall. He started pacing, adjusting his prosthetic hand, tugging at his coat. Five minutes. The ceremony was to start in five minutes.

He was five minutes from getting everything he had ever wanted—his true love, a family, a home of his own. Not two years past this day had seemed an impossibility. Who would have believed the fearsome Captain Hook, the terror of the high seas, the man utterly consumed with vengeance could find himself standing before the altar, waiting for Emma Swan to vow to love and honor him until death parted them?

Killian felt a companionable hand on his arm, and looked down into Swan's lad's eyes.

"Don't worry, Killian," Henry said with a smile, "everything's going to be great!"

Killian smiled down at his soon-to-be stepson. "Right you are, lad!" he said bracingly. "After all the work your grandmother and the dwarf put into making this day perfect, nothing would dare to go wrong!"

Henry laughed. "I still can't believe Grams asked _Leroy_ to be the wedding planner!"

Killian tugged at the bowtie that was in a fair way to strangling him. Bloody uncomfortable this realm's fashions!

Henry must have noticed the movement, as he turned a critical eye toward Killian's wardrobe. "The tux looks good, Killian," he said after a moment. "How did Mom convince you to lose the pirate clothes for the day?"

Killian grinned, vividly recalling the conversation. Emma had insisted he wear "normal clothes" to the wedding. After all, there would be photographs taken. Killian had flatly refused. His leathers had served him well for three-hundred years; he had no intention of changing. Emma had gone on to promise him that if he'd wear her clothing choice for the wedding, she would spend the honeymoon insuring he had no reason to wear clothing of any sort. Needless to say he'd agreed with alacrity. And so here he stood in something called a "tuxedo", his red vest his only homage to his pirate past.

"Never you mind, lad," Killian said, ruffling the lad's hair. "Suffice it to say your mother can be quite persuasive when she chooses to be."

"Let me guess," Henry said with a theatrical sigh, "her form of persuasion involved kissing?"

"Aye," Killian grinned, "but not nearly as much as I would have liked."

"Ew!" Henry insisted.

Killian laughed. "It's high time you get used to it, my lad. From today on, I intend to passionately kiss your mother every opportunity I get."

The boy shook his head. "You two really are disgusting, you know that?"

Killian laughed. He opened his mouth, preparing his next retort when the sounds of Pachelbel's Canon floated through the air.

"Come on Killian," Henry said, pulling at his arm. "That's our cue. Ceremony's about to start."

In years to come, Killian remembered very little of his wedding ceremony. He couldn't have described the dresses the bridesmaids—Ruby, Belle, Ariel, and Tinker Bell—wore. Nor could he recount the words Regina, the officient, spoke.

From the moment Emma stepped into his line of sight, holding tightly to her father's arm, looking every inch like the princess she was in her delicate white dress and filmy veil, she was all he saw, all he could focus upon. When she caught sight of him and smiled, he would have sworn the sun shown a little brighter. When she spoke the vows that would bind the two of them together for the rest of their lives, he only wondered why all the birds in all the forests of every realm known to man didn't burst out into ecstatic song. And when it was his turn to repeat the vows himself, he looked into her beautiful green eyes, now sparkling with happy tears, and poured his very heart and soul into the words he spoke.

"By the power vested in me by the city of Storybrooke," Regina said solemnly, "I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Killian waited a heartbeat. Then another. Finally, he turned back to the former Evil Queen. "Pardon me, Madam Mayor," he said with a saucy grin, "but it seems you've forgotten the final line of the ceremony."

Regina rolled her eyes. "I was hoping we could be spared this part."

"Not a chance, Regina," Emma insisted.

"Fine," Regina said with a sigh. "Go ahead, Hook, and kiss your bride."

Killian flashed her his old pirate grin. "With pleasure, your majesty."

Turning back to Emma, _his wife!_, Killian's face softened. He raised his shaking hand to cup her cheek.

"Lass," he whispered softly, reverently.

Her hand came up to cover his. Her eyes reflecting back all the emotion he was feeling, she murmured "Killian, I love you."

"And I you."

"So hurry up and kiss me already!"

"As you wish."

Killian leaned forward, intending to merely caress the lass's lips with his own. The whole town was watching, after all. But at the first touch of her silky lips to his, love and passion exploded. Suddenly he was crushing her to him, kissing her as though he were a drowning man and she was water. This was his wife! Emma Swan, _no, Jones!_ was his wife! After three-hundred long years of hell, heaven had finally opened up before him.

_Notes:_

_-Well, here you have it, the first installment of a new multi-chapter story that I'm sure will prove to be LONG. Curious about the new villains? This story will have two—and the title of this story gives a clue about the more formidable of the two._

_-This story is a sequel to my previous stories "A Wish Your Heart Makes" and "Getting To I Do." As you can tell, I'm sure, this story is AU. A few notable divergences from the canon of the show: Neal is still alive (and somewhat interested in a certain green fairy). Mary Margaret has not yet had her baby. At the start of this story, she's around 6 months pregnant. Six months before the start of this story, Emma, Killian and the whole gang defeated two powerful (and evil) villainesses—The Wicked Witch of the West (who didn't really resemble Zelena all that much, to be honest) and Morgana Le Fay. In the lost year, Killian stayed with the Charmings and everyone else until Rumple found a way to get him back to the Land Without Magic. Killian did not have to trade the Jolly Roger to get back to Emma. Regina was forced to return with the whole gang to Storybrooke…but she couldn't bring Robin Hood and Roland with her. One of the main purposes of this story is to remedy that!_

_-So this story started a little suspensefully with…someone…attacking the merry men and going after Roland, but then it dissolved into an almost sickeningly sweet bit of Captain Swan fluff! Because I'm not _thoroughly_ evil, I decided to let Killian and Emma actually get married before everything starts hitting the fan, but be warned. Fluff at the very START of a story usually cannot last. The peace and tranquility the two have enjoyed for the better part of half a year must, sadly come to an end. But at least they're married, and they're in love, and whatever battles they're going to have to fight, they'll fight together, side by side._

_-Up next: Regina returns to her office after the wedding and finds a very enlightening letter from an unlikely source (btw, for those of you who read "Getting To I Do" and saw the "preview" at the very end, this scene should look VERY familiar!). Meanwhile, Killian and Emma settle into the "bridal suite" at Granny's fully prepared to enjoy their first night as husband and wife. They soon come to the conclusion that planning to spend their wedding night at Granny's bed and breakfast was not the brightest idea they ever came up with._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Storybrooke, present day_

Regina walked slowly toward her office, trying desperately to banish the pain and darkness that threatened to consume her. The wedding had been beautiful. Emma and Hook were so disgustingly happy and in love it nearly made her sick. Jealousy and bitterness reared their ugly heads, but Regina ruthlessly shoved them back. It wasn't Miss Swan's…no _Mrs. Jones's_…fault that fate had seen fit to slap Regina across the face. She had worked so hard at being a _hero_ these last six months knowing Robin and Roland would be proud of her for her attempt to stay on the straight and narrow.

Regina unlocked her office door and looked around at the stark black and white décor. Henry was spending the night with his father, and Regina found she just couldn't face the evening alone in her big house. Maybe she'd get some work done until she was tired enough the pain wouldn't keep her awake.

Slipping out of her pumps, Regina sat at her desk, buried her face in her hands and gave way to the tears that had been threatening all day. How she missed them! It had been six months, but the pain was as fresh as the moment she'd left them behind. How did someone get over this?

It was Roland's birthday. Today he turned seven. If she'd been back at that cabin in the Enchanted Forest with them, she'd have made him one of her famous apple turnovers. Regina swiped at her tears and smiled in spite of herself. Roland would have eaten those turnovers until he was sick.

Robin had planned to make the boy a wooden sword and shield for his birthday. He claimed that would allow Roland to be a real little knight. She wondered if Robin had followed through on his plan.

_Robin_! A fresh wave of grief hit Regina, so strong it was hard to breathe. She loved him so much it was almost a physical ache. She missed him. Missed his teasing in the evenings while she prepared supper. Missed the way he obviously adored his son. Missed the long talks they would have at night after Roland fell asleep. Missed his strong arms holding her, keeping her warm during the cold winter nights. Missed his kisses, so deep and passionate it felt as though their very souls were merged. She could barely stand it anymore.

Regina hated rum. She hated the cloying spiciness of it. Yet though she hated it, she was half tempted to go find the pirate and beg a bottle off of him. That wouldn't work, of course, Hook was no doubt very busy right now enjoying his wedding night with his brand new wife. Ugh! She _did not_ need those images in her head!

Regina sat up and furiously scrubbed the tears from her face. She wasn't a helpless damsel in distress who sat around crying for her lost love! She was the queen! She wanted something to happen? She'd _make_ it happen! Somehow, some way she would get back to Robin and Roland if it was the _last_ thing she did.

In the meantime, maybe catching up on paperwork would help occupy her mind. Regina shuffled through the envelopes piled neatly on her desk. She abhorred clutter and always attended to it as promptly as possible. Everything in this stack looked in order. She was just about to turn from the stack when suddenly her hand stilled. There was something else there at the bottom—an envelope, but not one made of modern paper. It seemed to be made of parchment.

Slowly, gently Regina picked up the envelope and peered at it closely. Her name and the address of her office were written in a firm, confident hand. There was no return address and no stamp. Regina turned the parcel over and discovered it was closed with red sealing wax. The seal had been stamped with…how was it possible? It was sealed with a lion—the very one on the tattoo she'd come to know and love so well in the Enchanted Forest!

Regina tore open the envelope as quickly as her shaking fingers would allow. She snatched the single folded sheet of parchment from within, wrenched it open, and began to read.

_Your Majesty,_

_ I pray this letter finds you. Its bearer assures me she is capable of delivering it, but travel between realms being as difficult as it is, I hardly dare to hope._

_ My queen, we are in desperate need of your help! They have arrived! They've sacked our village and threaten to do more harm every day. They've taken little Roland, and I fear Robin may be in their clutches as well. None have seen him in three days. _

_ You are our only hope. You, and perhaps the savior. This is a foe more formidable than any I've seen! Utterly and completely ruthless! If you do not come to our aid, I fear all will be lost._

_ Please, Your Highness! Time is of the essence. There is not a moment to spare!_

_I remain your devoted servant,_

_Little John_

Regina looked quickly at the date at the top of the page, her heart racing, panic like a living thing clutching at her heart. Two days ago. This letter had been written two days ago! What horrors could have happened in that period of time?

Regina surged to her feet, threw on her shoes and ran out the door. The letter said the savior might be of help. Wedding night or no wedding night, Regina _had_ to get Emma's help, and as Little John said, there wasn't a minute to spare.

…

Emma felt Killian's hand, soft as a whisper, at the small of her back as he guided her into the bridal suite at Granny's. _The freaking bridal suite!_

Her heart raced as fast as a thoroughbred as the nerves threatened to take over. What was her problem? She wasn't some green teenager about to engage in her first time with a boy. She was a grown woman. An _experienced_ grown woman. This was no big deal; just a release, just a physical expression of the desire and passion she and Killian had felt for each other since…well since the very beginning.

Emma's inner lie-detector roared to life. _Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!_ Since when was her inner lie-detector a ten-year-old on the playground at recess? Emma laughed nervously.

The fact was…she knew this _was_ a big deal. This would be nothing like the endless parade of one-night-stands she'd experienced throughout her solitary life in Boston. It would be nothing like the youthful infatuation she'd felt for Neal. This would be joining with her true love. It would be two halves fusing together to form a unified whole at long last. It would be her giving every last bit of herself—body, heart, soul—to Killian and receiving every last bit of him in return. Once they crossed this bridge, there would never be any going back.

The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Killian slowly, deliberately shut the hotel room door and then turned back toward her. The smile that wreathed his face was so full of love and happiness it made her heart melt. She smiled back, somewhat tremulously as he slowly walked toward her. He stopped just short of touching her, and then slowly brought his hand to her cheek. Emma closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. Thinking of the enormity of what they were about to do, she began trembling again.

"Swan, are you alright?" Killian asked gently. "You're shaking."

Emma forced herself to look into his eyes.

"Yeah," she said, blowing out her breath, "I'm fine. It's just….I'm a little...I don't know…nervous. I've never done this before."

He flashed her his pirate grin. "Your son Henry's existence would seem to suggest otherwise."

She rolled her eyes, strangely feeling more at ease with a Captain Hook filled with swagger and innuendo than she had with a Killian Jones who adored her with a startling intensity.

After a moment she dropped her eyes. "I don't mean I've never done this. I mean I've never done _this_." She swept her hand over the room. "You know. Before it's always been just sex. It's never been about love. It's never been about commitment. It's always just been a meaningless physical act; something people just _do _when they're attracted to someone of the opposite sex."

She met his gaze once more, briefly, before letting it skitter away once more. "This," she continued, "well, this is different."

He tipped her chin up until she met his eyes once more. "Aye, my love," he murmured, "that it is."

Killian kissed her softly, gently, and some of her unease started to melt away. Being in his arms, receiving his love, giving hers in return…well, it just felt _right_. He pulled away rather than deepening the kiss.

"You need not fear, lass," he said with a gentle smile. "We've all night, and I'm a patient man. I've no objection to waiting until you're ready to consummate our vows."

Emma smiled, his thoughtfulness dissolving the last of her nerves. Putting both hands on his cheeks, she brought his face down for another kiss. When she finally pulled back, she smiled.

"Killian, if I'm being totally honest, I think I've been ready for that since…oh…around the beanstalk."

"Emma," he said, his voice breaking with emotion, "I love you! I love you so bloody much!"

And then he was crushing her to him, kissing her with wild abandon, his hand pulling at the pins in her hair, hers tugging at his clothing. He'd long since lost the jacket and the bowtie, but this tuxedo shirt had way too many freaking buttons!

Killian trailed a line of hot kissed down her jaw, to her collar bone, and she moaned, tipping her head backwards to give him better access. She felt his hand at the corset-back laces of her wedding gown, and her need for him exploded.

"How the hell can you even manage a _corset_ with only one hand," she asked breathlessly.

He shot her look that was nothing short of cocky. "Where there's a will there's always a way, love. And in this case there is most definitely a will."

And then his mouth was back on hers. Teasing her, claiming her, branding her as his own. They moved together until they reached the bed, and then they toppled onto its luxurious softness, lips becoming more insistent, hands roaming.

Emma's heart beat so loudly she would swear she could hear it. The knocking continued on and on…until Emma finally realized the noise wasn't coming from her heart; it was coming from their hotel room door.

Wrenching her mouth free from Killian's, Emma looked to the door silently vowing to murder whoever stood on the other side.

"Ignore them love," Killian said, gently turning her face back toward him. "With any luck they'll go away."

And then he was kissing her again, and all rational thought fled. Nothing in the world existed except him and her and this powerful love they shared between them.

The knocking picked up in intensity.

"Miss Swan!" Regina called through the door. "I mean _Mrs. Jones_! I know you're in there! Open up."

"Seriously?" Emma gasped, pulling her mouth free once more. "Killian, remind me again why we decided to spend our wedding night at Granny's _freaking_ bed and breakfast!"

"I've no idea love," Killian muttered, "but it was without doubt the most abysmally stupid idea we've ever concocted."

"Open up or I'll break down the door!" Regina demanded.

Emma sat up and smoothed her hands through her tangled hair. "We better see what she wants, Killian," she said with a sigh. "It doesn't look like we'll get any privacy until we do."

Killian growled low in his throat and hopped to the floor, letting his unbuttoned shirt fall unto the bed as he marched to the offending door.

Wrenching the knob so forcefully it was a wonder it didn't come off in his hand, Killian pulled the door open. Regina didn't stand on ceremony but strode into the room the moment the opening was wide enough to accommodate her slight frame.

"What?" Killian roared.

Regina sneered. "I see marriage hasn't sweetened your disposition at all, _pirate_."

Killian muttered something about his hook never being around when he needed it while Regina marched to the bed.

"We're kind of in the middle of something here, Regina," Emma said with a scowl, "so unless you barged in here to tell me we're facing utter annihilation or somebody's about to die or something, I suggest you save it till after the honeymoon."

Slowly, Regina's expression began to register with Emma. She looked terrified…and so frantic she was barely holding it together. A frission of dread crawled up Emma's spine. Was it Henry? Had something happened to Henry?

"What is it?" Emma asked anxiously. She felt Killian sit on the bed beside her and wrap his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his strength. "Is Henry okay? Did something happen…"

"No, no, nothing like that," Regina said quickly with a placating gesture of the hand. Emma's shoulders sagged with relief, and Killian gave the one he was holding a gentle squeeze. "It's Roland, and maybe Robin too."

Quickly the story unfolded. Regina told of the letter she'd received, of the terrible danger Roland, Robin and even the Enchanted Forest found itself in.

"He said I'm the only one who can save them," Regina said, the note of panic still prominent in her voice. "Me and maybe you, Emma."

Emma felt pity deep within her. What would it be like to receive word that Killian and Henry were in grave danger?

"I'm sorry for them and you, love, I truly am," Killian said in a soothing voice, "but what are we to do? All methods of creating portals are gone. We've no way to go to your love's aid."

Regina began to pace, agitation evident in every muscle of her body. "I don't believe that!" she said sharply. "I refuse to believe that! There's a way. There has to be a way."

Emma got to her feet and awkwardly went to Regina, her partially unlaced bridal gown sagging and threatening to fall off altogether. She gently led the distraught woman to a chair and handed her an unopened bottle of water.

"Thanks," Regina muttered distractedly.

"Okay," Emma said slowly, soothingly, "we'll find a way, but you're going to have to help me out. I'm still new to this whole fairy-tale magic thing."

Regina took a deep breath, obviously trying to master herself.

"Now," Emma said gently, "any ideas how we can create a portal."

Emma heard Killian muttering to himself behind her but chose to ignore it.

"I don't know," Regina said, "but anything this big will require, powerful magic. Far more powerful than you or I possess."

"Stronger than the two of you combined, love?" Killian asked from the bed.

"Yeah," Regina said, getting up to begin pacing again, "even more powerful than that."

"What if we asked for Gold's help?" Emma asked. "Maybe if the three of us joined forces, we could conjure up enough magic."

"Maybe," Regina said skeptically. "It's as good a plan as any."

With that, Regina marched to the door, and Emma, uttering a sigh of relief wandered back to the bed and Killian's waiting arms.

"Well?" Regina said from the hallway, "are you coming?"

"Regina, it's our wedding night!" Emma said in frustration. "Can't this wait until morning?"

Regina marched back into the hotel room glared at Emma, then Killian, then Emma again. "Sorry to burst your perfect little bubble, Mrs. Jones," she said snidely, "but the man I love and his son are in danger, maybe even mortal danger! You suggest I just sit around twiddling my thumbs so that you and your pirate can have your little roll in the hay?!"

Well when she put it like that it sounded positively sordid!

"Fine," Emma said with a sigh. "Just give us a few minutes to get changed and then we'll come with you to talk to gold."

"Brilliant," Killian muttered in evident ill-temper, "It's my wedding night, and not only do I _not_ get to make love to my wife; I have to spend the evening with the bloody Crocodile! Just brilliant!"

Emma leaned over and gave Killian a slow gentle kiss. "I'm sorry," she said, "this isn't exactly how I pictured our wedding night either. It's just one of the great joys of being the savior, I guess."

Killian got to his feet and offered Emma a hand. "There's no time like the present, I suppose. The sooner we vanquish this foe, the sooner we can return to our marriage bed."

Emma grinned, rummaging through her suitcase for something more comfortable and serviceable to wear. "I like the way you think, pirate," she tossed over her shoulder.

_Notes_

_-So…how did Regina get that letter from Little John? Who's the mysterious "she" who assured Little John she could get the letter to the other realm? Yes, I do know the answers, and yes, I will eventually tell you!_

_-So that Captain Swan scene got a little steamy, but, after all, it was their wedding night…not exactly the wedding night they had pictured, but still. Poor Emma and Killian! After all that waiting and restraint during the engagement period, they were finally free to express their love in whatever manner they chose…and then a villain had to show up and ruin it! Don't worry. They will _eventually_ get to engage in normal married-couple activities! :-) _

_-Up next: In a long-long ago section, we meet one of the two major villains when he's a teenager. He meets someone who changes his whole life and starts him down the path toward villainy. In the present day section, Killian, Emma and Regina head to Gold and Belle's house trying to find a way to create a portal back to the Enchanted forest. Though less than happy to be disturbed in the middle of the night, Gold does have a potential solution, but will it work?_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Enchanted Forest, long, long ago_

"Be gone, ye young scalawag!" Sixteen year old Edward ducked as the fat shop owner hurled a rotting apple at him. "We've no use for the likes of you. Lying, thieving scum! That's all you lot have ever been."

Edward hurried out the door before the shop owner could hurl any more imprecations—or rotten fruit—at him. As he stepped out onto the dirty, stinking street, a familiar hopelessness settled over him. It had been this way—unrelenting hate and suspicion directed at him ever since…ever since _it_ happened.

He closed his eyes remembering once again that terrible day nearly a year past. He remembered everything as though it were yesterday—the sight of his mother, stringy dark hair pulled into a messy bun at the nape of her neck, sweat beading her forehead as she stirred her stew on the stove. He remembered Anne, his irrepressible seven-year-old sister begging him to play dolls with him (not that they could afford _real_ dolls. Anne merely played with ratty corn-husk imitations of the real thing). He remembered the salty sea breeze—scented with garbage and rotting fish—blowing in their one window. Malodorous though it was, the breeze was welcome. In at least a small measure, it brought relief from the stifling August heat.

And he remembered his father, eyes wide with terror bursting into the front door of their slum, dirty clothes hanging from him in tatters.

"They're coming for me, Peg!" he'd gasped in a high whine. "I must hide!"

Edward watched as his mother's mild, doe-brown eyes flashed venom.

"What have ye done this time, William?" she asked in a hard voice. Anne stopped her wheedling and slumped down behind Edward, clutching at his arm. Instinctively, he gripped his baby sister's hand and squeezed reassuringly.

His father rounded on his mother. "Why d'ye do that?" he bellowed, flecks of spit flying from his mouth in his anger, startling light blue eyes crazed. "I'm yer _husband_, woman! Yer to back me up no matter what!"

Edward waited for his mother to shrink back like she always did. His father in a towering rage was nothing to be trifled with. But this time…this one fateful time she refused to be cowed.

"I'll not stand by a shiftless no-account who can't go _two days_ without fleecing our neighbors and making us the pariah of the neighborhood!" she bellowed equally forcefully.

Behind him, Anne whimpered, and Edward slid to the ground next to her, wrapping her in a comforting hug.

Their father roared like a wounded bear, and back-handed their mother across the face. She fell backwards, and Edward would never forget the loud _crack_ as his mother's head connected with the unrelenting iron surface of the stove. Then she lay still.

"Mama!" Anne yelled. The sound drew their father's attention, and the man's wild eyes frightened Edward.

"Come, you two," their father rasped, "We've not a moment to waste! Ye must hide me. The mob is aiming for my head this time, and no mistake!"

Anger mixed with the dread Edward felt. He'd been cowed by this worthless excuse for a human being long enough. The brute had injured their mother, but he'd be damned before he let the man touch his little sister.

Edward rose to his full…though rather unimpressive…fifteen-year-old height and turned to face the man who'd sired him.

"No, Papa," he said firmly. "We'll not help you anymore. Ye'll not hurt us anymore..."

Their father took a menacing step toward them, and Anne whimpered yet again, huddling even farther away. Edward balled his hands into fists. He may be no match for the big, beefy man, but he'd not go down without a fight.

What might have happened next only God knew. Before Edward's father had a chance to respond to his challenge, the mob descended en masse. Edward grabbed his little sister and ran for their parents' bedroom. Shutting the door firmly, he listened as the crowd broke down their front door and took their father away. It was not until much later that Edward found out the crowd had promptly taken his father to the town square and strung him up for such crimes as thievery, rape and intended murder, stemming from a very unfortunate event at a local pub.

As soon as he was sure the mob was good and truly gone, he'd gone to his mother. While Anne cried in the bedroom doorway, he frantically searched for a pulse. He never found it. In one afternoon, Edward's whole world shattered.

In the months since, Edward did his best to provide for himself and Anne, but it was all he could do just to keep them afloat. No one would offer him more than small odd jobs. His father cast a long shadow. Nearly everyone in their village had a grievance against the man, and they seemed to wish to take it out on Edward.

It certainly didn't help that Edward was the spitting image of his father with his startlingly light blue eyes and jet-black hair. Even the first wisps of stubble that had begun to grace Edward's young face looked like his father's.

As a self-righteous village woman swept her skirts aside and shot him a look of loathing, Edward came back to the present. What was he to do? The store had been his last hope. If even the shop owner wouldn't hire him to clean and stock the store, how was he to provide for Anne? That morning they'd eaten the last crust of bread. Anne had shot him a sad, miserable look. She wouldn't complain, but she wasn't strong. If she didn't start getting steady sustenance soon, she would become ill.

A deep anger started in Edward's empty belly and quickly spread throughout his body. These self-righteous pigs! They thought he was a thief like his father? Fine! A thief he would become. If that's what it would take to care for his sister, that's precisely what he would do.

Edward roamed the busy docks with studied casualness. With the ease of a veteran pick-pocketer, he fleeced sailor, merchant, and gentleman alike. Perhaps his worthless no-account father had passed something useful on to him after all.

With a furtive look to both sides, Edward reached for another pocket…and then felt a vice-like grip on his thin wrist. He felt an icy dread as he looked up into hard brown eyes.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you lad," the man said in a surprisingly soft and gentle voice.

Edward pulled, trying to yank his arm free. He had to get away! He couldn't be caught like his father! But the large man before him held firm.

"Let me go!" Edward shouted with as much bravado as he could muster.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, me boy," the man said with a grim smile, "Hornigold suffers no man to rob him."

Hornigold? Benjamin Hornigold?He'd tried to rob _Benjamin Hornigold_? The infamous pirate known throughout all the land for the ruthless and effective pirate ring he'd started? Edward's heart raced and terror filled his eyes. He'd had it this time! He'd be lucky if the man _only_ made him walk the plank!

The large man grinned down at him grimly. "I see my reputation precedes me."

"A..a..aye," Edward stammered unable to get more than the single syllable past the colossal lump in his throat.

Hornigold chuckled. "Well, me lad, a man's reputation is his bond," he said, "but reputation does not always reflect reality."

Edward couldn't have responded if his life depended on it.

Hornigold clapped his free hand on Edward's shoulder. "Come now, boy. Don't look at me like that! I'm a pirate, not a demon. The words are not necessarily synonymous."

"A..a..aye," Edward responded again.

The large pirate eyed him for long moments. "Ye look like a wind could blow you away," he said speculatively. "Come. I've a proposition for you. Allow me to lay it before you at the pub over a bite. From the looks of you, you could use more than a few."

It didn't even enter Edward's mind to resist. The man pulled him to a back table and instructed the flirtatious bar maid to bring him large quantities of food. As he ate ravenously, Edward listened as oH Hornigold told him all about his piracy operation.

"I watched you for quite some time as you worked the crowd, my lad," Hornigold said after taking his last bite. "Ye've uncommon skill. You'd make a hell of a pirate."

"I…I would?" Edward asked, eyes rounded. This might be the first time _anyone_ had told him he would be good at anything.

"Aye," Hornigold nodded, "first rate. I could use your skills and ingenuity on my ship. What say? Will you join my crew?"

The prospect was intriguing. Edward imagined himself as a pirate. He imagined the riches he could amass. He had a vision of himself flush with wealth, wearing fine clothes like those gracing Hornigold. He saw himself getting as much food as he could want. He saw himself providing for his sister's every need.

And then the dream came crashing down. _Anne_. As tempting as the pirate life might be, he couldn't have it. If he left, there would be _no one_ left to care for his delicate young sister.

"I'm sorry sir," he said tremulously. "It sounds wondrous, but it simply can't be."

Hornigold looked at him speculatively as he took a long drink of his ale. "Care to enlighten me why not?"

"You see sir," Edward said. "I have a little sister. I'm all she has. I cannot leave her unprotected and unprovided for."

Hornigold smiled. "Is that all, me lad? Nothing is simpler to remedy."

"What do you mean, Captain?" Edward asked, confusion creasing his brow.

"Simply this," Hornigold said, smile still draping his craggy features. "I have a maiden sister. A very _wealthy_ maiden sister. She has a large house and an even larger income. And even larger than both is her loneliness. She's more than once suggested an intention to take in a ward. Someone to be a companion and heir. What say we introduce the two? I've no doubt my sister will take in yours. Your sister will want for nothing. All possible luxuries and advantages will be at her fingertips. Would such an arrangement meet with your approval?"

Edward imagined Anne rich…and with silks and satins…Anne provided with an education, with finishing school…Anne presented into polite society. It was more than he could ever hope to provide for her.

"Aye, sir," he said with a hopeful grin. "If your sister will provide for mine, I'll join your crew."

"Excellent!" Hornigold said clapping his big hands together. "Now suppose you provide me with your name and then we can shake on it."

"Edward," he said, "Edward Teach."

_Storybrooke, present day_

As Regina drove from Granny's to Gold's mansion on the edge of town, the panic slowly started to recede. As bad as things looked, at least they were _doing_ something now. There was nothing worse than being stuck worlds away from the man she loved, the man who was in terrible danger, and being able to do _nothing _about it.

A soft chuckle from the backseat drew Regina's attention, and she peered at the Jones's in her rearview mirror. Emma sat so close to her husband she was nearly in his lap. They held hands, their heads close together as they talked softly. Hook smiled gently, releasing her hand to gently stroke her cheek.

The pair had been steadily stealing kisses throughout the short drive…whenever they thought Regina was otherwise occupied. Of course, it seemed they were so caught up in each other, they barely even knew there was another occupant to this vehicle.

A pang tore through Regina's heart. Would she ever have what these two had finally found? She was convinced she loved Robin with as deep and passionate a love as Emma loved her pirate, but would she ever see the man alive again? At the very thought of her outlaw's death, the fear threatened to take over again. Resolutely, she put it from her mind, instead focusing on the retribution she would take on whatever miscreant _dared_ to attack the man and the boy the Evil Queen loved.

Hook and Emma were kissing again by the tell-tale sounds coming from the backseat, and Regina put herself in their shoes for the first time that night. Quite the wedding night this was turning out to be!

Regina cleared her throat. "Sorry," she said awkwardly, "for, you know, ruining your big night."

Emma pulled her mouth free, and stared at Regina in what could only be called astonishment. Was it really _that_ hard to believe that she would apologize?

Finally Emma cleared her throat. "Well, I mean, I'm the savior," she said with a shrug. "It's kind of an occupational hazard."

Hook heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Let us just hope the Crocodile doesn't prove recalcitrant. If I'm to be denied the pleasure of lying in my wife's arms tonight, I don't want my sacrifice to go for naught."

"Oh he'll help us, alright," Regina said grimly, Evil Queen firmly in place. "Dark One or not, if he balks I'll curse him into oblivion.

Truth be told, Gold getting in touch with his malevolent imp side was the least of Regina's worries tonight. The man had been surprisingly pliable since his marriage to Belle. Who know all it took was a literary-minded beauty to tame the beast?

No, Regina's greatest worry was not that Gold _wouldn't_ help them, but rather that he _couldn't_. As Hook said back at the bed and breakfast, every known method of traveling realms had been exhausted. Unless Gold had some deep, dark, magical…_something…_hidden away somewhere, they were on a fool's errand.

Regina turned on her blinker, pulled into Gold's estate, and put even the possibility of failure from her mind. She hadn't become the evil queen by lying down and giving up. Whatever it took, she _would_ get back to the Enchanted Forest and she _would_ save Robin and Roland!

…

"Well, here we are," Emma said, rather unnecessarily as the trio walked up to the front door.

"It seems the Crocodile did quite well for himself in this new land of yours," Killian commented, his voice only reflecting a hint of the normal distain he usually reserved for his erstwhile enemy.

"A price of the curse," Regina said absently as she rang the doorbell. "Before he'd tell me how to cast it, he insisted I provide him with a good life in Storybrooke."

Emma looked around the grounds as she waited for the door to be opened. She certainly saw Belle's influence already. The walk was lined with flower gardens. The entire place looked brighter and cheerier than the last time she been here—after Belle's father had stolen a teacup from Gold. For some reason, that particular theft had nearly driven the man ballistic.

The hall light went on, and a moment later, Gold opened the door, Belle clad in a fuzzy blue kimono, hanging off his arm. His eyes widened in surprise as he took in her and Killian. Emma smirked. She'd wager they were about the last people he expected to see tonight.

"Well, well," Gold drawled, "if it isn't the Jones's and their evil little side-kick."

"Look," Regina said irritably, "we don't have time for your crap. Are you going to let us in or not?"

Gold's eyes narrowed. "Tsk, tsk. No manners at all. You show up at a man's house at," he looked down at his watch, "10:00 at night and then greet him with unremitting rudeness?"

Regina looked like she was about to pull out the fireballs, but Belle, always the peacemaker, stepped into the fray. "Rumple, obviously something's happened or they wouldn't be here tonight—especially Emma and Killian. We should invite them in."

Gold stepped back, and made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "Be my guests, dearies."

Emma stepped inside, fingers laced with Killian's. It would seem her husband couldn't keep from touching her tonight—not that she had any objections, to be sure! Belle showed them into a formal sitting room and then wandered toward the kitchen to make them all a pot of tea.

Emma sat with Killian on a cozy loveseat, and then leaned into him as he wrapped an arm around her. Gold shot them an amused, mocking glance.

"Well, Dearie," he drawled, "I know the pirate's no catch, but was he really such an abysmal lover that you've abandoned the marriage bed already?"

Emma felt Killian tense beside her and rolled her eyes. "Save it, Gold," she said, "we don't have time for your feud tonight. Besides, Killian and I barely got started, and already he's the best I ever had."

She looked up into her husband's eyes, and the love and hunger she found there had her heart racing and her cheeks flaming.

Belle returned with a full tea service, fragrant steam wafting from the intricately decorated silver tea pot.

"So what brings you to our home tonight?" she asked pouring and serving the soothing beverage.

"We've got trouble," Regina said simply.

Gold sighed. "Why does that not surprise me?"

"What kind of trouble?" Belle asked.

"It's the Enchanted Forest," Emma answered. "It seems someone attacked the Merry Men and kidnapped Roland; maybe Robin too."

"And just how could you know that?" Gold asked skeptically.

"The queen only just received a missive from Little John detailing an attack on their camp. It seems the lad was abducted, and Robin is also missing," Killian provided.

Emma leaned her head on Killian's shoulder, and looked over the group. "The real question," she said, "is how the hell he managed to get a letter to Storybrooke. He talked about having a messenger that he hoped he could trust, but all the portals are closed. How did this 'she' manage to cross realms?"

Gold laughed—his old Rumplestiltskin cackle. "Really, Dearie?" he asked sarcastically. "Are you really as dense as all that?"

Killian tensed again, no doubt prepared to go into battle for her honor. Emma laid a gentle hand on his chest, and he relaxed. "Cut the crap Gold," she said in a voice liberally laced with irritation. "If you know something just tell us. Stop with this whole song and dance routine."

"Let's see," he said, putting a finger to his chin, "who do we know who can travel…or more precisely _swim…_between realms? Who do we know who has a 'true love' right here in Storybrooke, and a father and sisters in the waters off the Enchanted Forest?"

"Ariel!" Regina breathed.

"Exactly," Gold said with a small nod.

"But," Emma said, a frown creasing her brow, "that can't be right. Ariel would have told us, wouldn't she? I mean, she was one of my bridesmaids. She's been busy with all the wedding craziness just like all the rest of us over the last week or so."

"Well," Belle said after taking a dainty sip of her tea, "that's not precisely true."

"What do you mean, lass?" Killian asked.

Belle shrugged. "Yeah, she was there for the rehearsal and the wedding, but other than that she's kind of been MIA. And she seemed really preoccupied today. I saw her leaving quickly just after the ceremony. When I asked her what was wrong, she just muttered something about having to talk to her father."

"Well, there you have it then," Gold said, decisively setting his cup aside. "Now that everyone's been briefed on the happenings of the Enchanted Forest, can my wife and I get back to bed?"

"No you may not!" Regina said sharply. She got to her feet and started pacing. "Gold that's the man I love out there! We need your help; find us a way to get back there and save him!"

Gold chuckled again. "Are you daft?" he asked. He began speaking slowly, deliberately as though he were speaking to a slow child. "All methods of creating portals are gone. Obliterated. Used up. No longer accessible."

Regina stopped and glared at Gold with such venom, Emma half expected fire to shoot from her eyes. "I don't believe that," she said with soft intensity. "I _can't_ believe that. I _know_ you, Gold. You can find a way."

"Perhaps," Gold said with a maddening smile, "but if there is a way, it'll be more than difficult. It'll be damn near impossible. Why should I go to all that effort for you?"

It was Belle that came through for them. "Rumple, he's her true love," she said earnestly. He turned toward her, and his face softened. "You and I both know what it's like to believe your true love is dead or dying. We both know how it feels to be separated from the one we love."

"But Belle," he said softly, "I don't even know if it would work. Trying might be dangerous. Sometimes the cost is simply too great to balance the benefit."

"If true love isn't motivation enough for you," Emma said trying heroically to hold on to her patience, "how about this: Somebody's obviously trying to get to Regina. How much you want to bet if she doesn't show up in the Enchanted Forest, he finds a way to show up here? If we don't take care of the villain over there, we'll have to deal with him here. How's that cost-benefit analysis working out for you?"

"Sadly, the pirate's bride makes sense," Gold said with a sigh.

"You're just now discovering that mate?" Killian said with a grin in Emma's direction. "I've known she's bloody brilliant since the moment I met her."

"And this, Dearies, is precisely why we send newlyweds off on honeymoons," Gold said. "If we don't send them off to exorcise all the sappiness, the rest of us will drown in it!"

"We have more problems to deal with right now!" Regina insisted, dropping back into her chair. "Are you going to help us or not."

"I can try," Gold said doubtfully. "I know of only_ one_ possible method of creating a portal."

"And what's that?" Emma asked.

"A powerful magical artifact I have stored in my vault," Gold answered slowly. "But if I were you, I wouldn't hold my breath. Activating said artifact will take a powerful dose of magic. I'm the most powerful magical being in the realm, and I doubt even _my _magic will be strong enough to do the trick."

"But you won't be alone," Regina said firmly. "Miss S…I mean Mrs. Jones and I will be with you. Our combined magic will be enough."

Almost as an afterthought, she added. "It has to be."

"Just what is this powerful magical artifact?" Killian asked.

Gold paused, obviously for dramatic impact. "The trident of King Triton."

_Notes:_

_-Sorry for the long delay in updating. I'd only fully plotted out the first two chapters. I had to take some time to flesh out the rest with a detailed outline (complete with the backstories of the two villains and the present day story) before I could really dig into the rest of the story._

_-In the long, long ago section, Benjamin Hornigold and Edward Teach were real historical people, or, more specifically, they were real historical pirates. I've done some research on them, and they're both rather fascinating. I plan to make their contribution to the story as historically accurate as possible (within the crazy fairytale world of OUAT…so who knows how accurate I can make it really? Lol!) Most of this chapter's events, however, come directly from my imagination. There's little out there on either man's family or younger years. It is true that Hornigold took Teach on as a kind of protégé, though._

_-In the present day section, I hope you're not averse to sappiness. Being brand newly-weds, Killian and Emma just can't help themselves…and they haven't even had a real "wedding night" yet! If you are averse to sappiness…don't worry, pretty soon they'll be so busy with danger and adventure, they'll barely have time to nauseate those around them! :-) Beyond the lovebirds…so, Rumple has Triton's trident. Will his, Emma's and Regina's combined magic be enough to create a portal?_

_-Up next: We go back to around a year before the first curse and meet up with the story's second villain, who is currently busy raking a few poor unfortunate souls across the coals. (And that shouldn't be subtle at all for those of you familiar with Disney songs!) In the present day section, Emma, Killian, Regina, Gold and Belle retrieve the trident and attempt to open a portal._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_Waters off the Enchanted Forest, about a year before the original dark curse_

"Please!" the young blonde begged, "please give me more time! Just a little more time."

Ursula shook her head and clicked her tongue, her bright red lips turned up slightly in a mocking smile. "My dear sweet child," she said in a soft, menacing contralto, "you know that isn't gonna happen. We had an arrangement. I kept my end, but you…well, unfortunately you did not."

"But your price was too high!" the mermaid wailed, her sea-green tail swishing back and forth in agitation. "It's more than double what I make in a year!"

Ursula shook her head. "Well, hon, should have thought about that before you signed your life away, shouldn't you? Maybe next time you'll think before you sign on the dotted line….Oh, that's right! There won't be a next time, because now, _you belong to me_!"

The ditz wailed again. "You heartless witch!" she sobbed. She went on to call Ursula every name under the sun.

Ursula tried to tune her out. This part gave her a headache. The begging, the pleading, the crying! Ugh! Didn't anyone have any self-respect anymore? A witch she may be, but at least she wasn't a groveling beggar.

"You're nothing but a fat ugly _evil_ octopus!"

Well, now that was just plain wrong. Evil was such a strong word. She'd heard plenty of tales of evil queens and wicked witches on land, and she hadn't done half the things they were accused of. Truth be told, she was practically a philanthropist! What did she do day in and day out but _help_ people? Poor unfortunate souls with no one to turn to. They'd come to her, begging her to use her magic to get them out of their pathetic little predicaments. And would she help them? Yes indeed…for a price.

Oh there were those who disapproved of her "prices;" no surprise there. King Triton, for example had been cursed with a ridiculous sense of morality. He'd let her know in no uncertain terms that he expected her to help others out of the kindness of her heart, that extortion would not be tolerated in his kingdom. Extortion! The very notion! As if fair compensation for services rendered was extortion!

Well, Ursula had told him in a few well-placed (and rather choice) words just what he could do with his morality. If they'd been on land, she'd swear steam would have come out of his ears. For the love of Poseidon, the man's temper was ridiculous! He'd thrown her out of the kingdom and barred her from ever returning.

Ha! He'd thought it was a punishment. Joke was on him. Because of that rather infamous day, she was the proud owner of this sparkling mansion. She had everything her heart could desire, and, thanks to her little "garden," she had all the loyal servants she could ever want.

She thought fondly of the little plot of sea she'd fondly dubbed her "garden of souls." She'd planted her first one mere days after taking up residence in her mansion. The fool of a merman had come to her with a sickening tale of woe.

"Ursula, please!" he'd rasped, "I'm begging you! I know you're the sea witch. I know you can help me!"

"Just what is it you need help with?"

"The mermaid I love more than life itself chose someone else. She says she's going to marry him!"

Ursula shot him a bored look. "Sounds like tough luck, baby cakes."

"You're the most powerful witch in all the oceans!" he'd said, a hint of hysterics in his voice. "You can give me a potion that will make her fall in love with me again. _True love_ this time."

It was only with the greatest difficulty that Ursula kept from rolling her eyes. Did no one know _anything_ about the way magic worked? True love was something that came from within; something that no magic on land, in the sea, or anywhere else could manufacture.

He must have seen her skepticism, because he somehow ramped up the desperation in his voice another ten notches or so.

"You're my last hope! I'll do anything!"

He'd do anything? She liked the sound of that. Maybe she could come to some sort of arrangement with this pathetic excuse for a merman after all.

"Calm down, calm down," she said sympathetically, placing one rather flabby arm around the merman's shoulders. "I can help you. I just ask one teensy, tiny favor in return."

His face brightened with sudden hope. "Anything!"

Ursula thought of her mansion, still rather shabby. It had been in disrepair for decades before she'd come to live here. What she needed was a conversation piece. A show-stopping marvel to draw eyes and attention. She knew _exactly_ what she needed!

"Triton's chandelier," she'd said simply.

The merman blanched. "T..t..triton's chandelier?" he'd asked in a strangled voice. "You want me to steal the very chandelier from the dining room of the palace itself?"

"Yep," Ursula said, "that's the one!"

"But….but" the merman stammered, "that's impossible! How could I possibly succeed in doing such a thing?"

She'd smirked. "I guess that's your problem, isn't it? Look toots, true love doesn't come cheap. You want your little doll's heart? Bring me the chandelier."

Resolve entered his eyes. _Got him!_

"You have a deal," he said firmly.

She'd whipped up a tidy little bottle of eau de infatuation, pulled out a contract, made him sign on the dotted line, and sent him on his merry way, cautioning him that he had one week. After that, she'd send her minions in after him.

A week later, there was no sign of the desperate little Romeo. She'd dragged his sorry merman tail back to her mansion, reminded him of their arrangement, and then shot him with a potent little bit of magic she'd just discovered. The man's soul, his free will, his ability to fight back against her was ripped from his body and planted itself in a little patch of silt. And there it remained till this day, like an ugly little shriveled plant with pleading eyes and a sorrowful expression.

The man was totally pliable after that. She owned him. Robbed of his ability to fight against her will, he became her first servant…the first of many.

But Ursula soon discovered that a slave wasn't all she got out of that little transaction. No, no, no. That wasn't _nearly_ all! As soon as the man's soul separated from him, Ursula felt a rush of power wash over her. She'd thought she had magic before? It was _nothing_ compared to what she had after trapping the merman! It was as though she fed off of his soul.

And from that moment on, she steadily added to her garden. With each new soul, each new servant, her power and abilities grew.

"I'll get it for you, I promise!" The high pitch of the blonde mermaid's pleading pulled Ursula from the past back to the situation at hand.

"Sorry, toots," she said growing tired of the pleading. "Time's up."

She raised her hand, shot her magic at the blonde…and nothing happened. _What?_ She could do that spell in her sleep! Why hadn't it worked?

The mermaid sensed her tiny moment of opportunity, and began swimming away as fast as her fins could take her. Ursula concentrated with all her might. She cast the spell again, and this time it met it's mark.

The mermaid was brought slowly _way too slowly!_ back into Ursula's presence. With great difficulty, the blonde's soul separated from her body and planted itself in the garden.

Fear settled over Ursula like a garment. _What was going on here_? That spell was normally instantaneous. Something was wrong. Very very wrong. If Ursula didn't know better, she'd say her magical abilities were starting to weaken.

"Bring me a drink," she demanded in a not-quite-steady voice to the now completely pliable blonde. "And after the evening I've had, you better make it a strong one!"

_Storybrooke, present day_

With a flourish, the Crocodile pulled the trident from his safe in the backroom of his pawn shop. Killian looked the item over with a critical eye. For an object as famed as King Triton's trident, it was disappointingly ordinary. The three prongs were filed to a fine point, but the metal surface was slightly burnished. Killian had expected pure gold. He'd thought the object would glow, _exude_ magical properties.

"A bit ordinary for Triton's trident, wouldn't you say, Mate?" he asked, idly rubbing his thumb along the back of Emma's hand, which he held within his.

The Crocodile rolled his eyes. "Maybe, _mate_, that's because this _isn't_ the trident."

"What?" Regina asked shrilly. Really, as foul a mood as the queen was in tonight, it was unwise of the Crocodile to trifle with her. "If that isn't the trident, where is it?"

He chuckled. "Where is the trident?" he asked. "If I had to guess I'd say firmly within King Triton's control."

"So," Emma said. Killian could fairly feel the annoyance rolling off of her, "what you're telling us is that the only way to get back to the Enchanted Forest is to use King Triton's trident, but King Triton's trident is with him…_in_ the Enchanted Forest? Anybody else starting to lose confidence in this plan?"

The Crocodile shook his head mockingly. "Oh ye of little faith! It turns out, dearies, that using the _actual_ trident was never my plan. I've never _had_ the actual trident, more's the pity. It's the most magical item in all the realms. Had I come to possess it, do you think I would have bothered with a dark curse? No. I would have simply used the trident to take me directly to Bae, wherever that might have been . Unfortunately, there are some things it's not even in the Dark One's power to obtain."

He picked up the trident…or whatever the object they'd retrieved was, and slowly began to polish it.

"Just what is your plan, then, Crocodile?" Killian asked in irritation. He was in no mood to play this imp's games tonight.

"Patience, _Pirate_!" the Crocodile said with a sneer. "I was just about to get to that. Though I do not possess the actual trident, I do own this, a rather clever reproduction, imbued with _nearly_ the same magic. I obtained it from a mermaid in payment for a debt. With any luck, our combined magic will be sufficient to activate it."

"It will be," Regina muttered. "It has to!"

"So what do we do?" Emma asked, releasing Killian's hand and stepping forward.

"Take hold of the trident," the Crocodile said in answer. "Concentrate, Regina, Mrs. Jones. Focus every ounce of your magical abilities onto its metal surface. Concentrate on the Enchanted Forest, on the portal we'll need to take us there."

Emma and Regina stepped forward and did as the Crocodile instructed. Killian watched his wife's face as he waited. Her eyes were closed, her brow furrowed in concentration. Every fiber of her being strained forward, willing a portal to open.

They waited for what felt like hours, as nothing happened. Finally, a weak jet of light shot from the trident's three prongs…and then quickly disappeared into the pawn shop's darkness.

Regina growled in frustration. "It didn't work! Why didn't it work?"

The Crocodile shrugged. "I warned you not to count on success. It was a long shot from the get go."

"So we just give up?" Regina asked angrily, her hands on her hips.

"No," Emma said with steely determination. "_Something_ happened. We made sparks shoot from the trident. We need to try again; concentrate even harder this time."

"Might as well throw in the towel, dearie," the crocodile said with a grim smile. "With an item as weak and unpredictable as this, we would need about ten times our magical force to produce a portal strong enough to transport us to the other side of town."

Emma grasped the trident firmly once more. "Well, I'm not giving up. We owe it to Robin and Roland to give it at least one more try."

Regina latched on, her hands sitting just below Emma's.

"Knock yourselves out," the Crocodile said, leaning lazily against the wall, "but my contribution here is done."

"Rumple!" Belle said disapprovingly. "What harm will one more attempt do?"

He gave her an exasperated look, and then blew out a long, slow breath. "Alright. Another attempt coming up."

The Crocodile grasped the trident, and Killian waited, watching carefully. Nothing. He saw the disappointment in Regina's face, could feel Emma's disappointment. Wanting nothing but to comfort, he placed his hand gently on Emma's shoulder…and then gasped. Something as strong as an electric current passed through him to her and then on to the trident. For one bright shining moment, a tiny, swirly vortex opened up before them, and then it was gone.

The Crocodile looked flabbergasted. "And just how did you do that? Since when do _you_ have magic?"

Belle gasped, and everyone looked to her. "He doesn't have magic," she said earnestly. "Not by himself at least."

She looked around at the group, apparently annoyed with their lack of understanding. "_True love_," she said with a sigh. "The most powerful magic in all the realms. Opening this portal will take more than Rumple's magic or Regina's magic or Emma's magic or even all of their magic combined. It will take true love magic!"

"But…" Killian said, stating the obvious. "Even that wasn't enough, love. The portal opened, but didn't remain so long enough for us to pass through."

"Well," Belle said with a small smile as she threaded her arm through the Crocodile's, "although I'm sure your love feels like the most consuming thing in the world right now, Killian, you and Emma are not the only ones who are truly in love. Maybe if Rumple and I lend our true love, we'll have a better result."

And they did. This time a full blown portal opened before them, but just as they prepared to jump, it vanished once again. Regina shrieked, kicking a display case in her frustration.

"I'd appreciate it if you refrained from destroying my merchandise, dearie," the Crocodile said with a sneer.

"I'm sorry," Regina said snidely, sounding anything but. "The man I love and his innocent little boy are in more danger every minute I _don't _go to their aid. Forgive me if I'm a little emotional."

"Well, we tried," the Crocodile said again. "Venting your wrath on my display cases will do nothing to change the fact that we _failed_."

"We haven't failed yet," Emma said with determination. "We need true love? I know where we can find whole buckets full of the stuff."

"Of course!" Belle said, clapping her hands together. "Their love is epic. It's what started it all!"

Regina rolled her eyes. "Surely you can't be talking about the _un_Charmings! Can't we do _anything_ without them tagging along."

"Sorry, Regina," Emma said, grabbing Killian's hand and leading him to the doorway, "but it looks like my parents are your only hope of getting back to your true love."

"Fine," Regina said with a huff. "Alright. Lead on."

…..

Emma dropped her head and studied the road as they walked the short distance to her parents' flat.

"Something troubling you, love?" Killian asked, stooping down so he could look into her face.

She smiled up at him, squeezing his hand. Her husband could read her like a book. "Nothing much," she said with a shrug. "Just the usual. Once again we're preparing to fall through a portal to a distant land where some psycho villain is trying to kill us or take over the world…or kill us while taking over the world. Some honeymoon this will turn out to be!"

Killian laughed. "Fear not, lass," he said with a significant raise of one eyebrow, "I'm nothing if not resourceful. Regardless of what the blackguard may throw our way, I'll find a way to steal you away, even if it's merely for a day or two."

She leaned her head against his shoulder, grinning. "I'll hold you to that, pirate."

They walked in silence for a few minutes, but then another thought occurred to Emma.

"Hey Gold," she asked, calling up to the man who led their procession.

"Yes, dearie?" he asked.

"So, say we _get _to the Enchanted Forest. What's our exit strategy? How are we going to manage to get back here when we've once again cleaned up that realm? I have no intention of being separated from Henry for the rest of my life."

Gold waved his hand with a flourish. "Nothing easier this time. When the portal opens and we jump through, the trident will come with us. When we're ready to come back, all we'll need to do is apply true love magic once again, and _voila!_"

"Well, at least that's one good thing, I guess," Emma said.

Still…these "defeating villains and saving the world" missions were always full to the brim with danger. There was no guaranteeing she…or any of the rest of them…would make it out of this alive. Best make preparations just in case.

Emma fished her cell phone out of her pocket with her free hand. Looking through her contacts, she found the number she was looking for, and pressed the button to dial.

"Hello?" she heard a moment later.

"Hey, Neal, it's Emma."

"Em?" she could hear the confusion in his voice. "Not that I'm not happy to hear from you and everything, but shouldn't you be otherwise occupied tonight?"

"I wish," she said, almost under her breath. "Unfortunately villains don't take honeymoons into consideration when they try to screw people over."

"Villains?" he asked. "Someone new threatening Storybrooke?"

"Not Storybrooke this time. The Enchanted Forest. Somebody's attacked the Merry Men. Your dad and Belle and me and Killian are going to go with Regina to deal with the threat. My parents may join us too."

"What do you need, Em?" he asked. "You want me to come along?"

She shook her head before remembering he couldn't see it over the phone. "Actually, I need you here, Neal. I hate to ask it, but can you stay with Henry until we get this taken care of and come back? I have no idea how long that might be."

"Come on Em," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "Henry's my son; you don't even need to ask. Don't worry; we'll be fine. Tink and I will keep him so occupied he won't even have time to miss you…or try to find his own way there to 'help' you."

"Thanks Neal. I really appreciate it."

"No problem," he said. "So, you want me to get him up? You and Killian want to say goodbye to him?"

Emma swallowed down the lump in her throat. "No, no. Don't wake him up. Just…just tell him we love him, and we'll be back as soon as we can. Oh, and Regina says the same."

"Okay. I'll tell him first thing in the morning."

"Thanks," she said, preparing to hang up. Impulsively she added one last thing. "I'm glad we found you again. Henry's lucky to have you in his life."

"Not as lucky as I am to have him," he said. "However messed up our relationship might have been, we certainly did one thing right."

"That's for sure."

"Take care of yourself, Emma," he said. "Be careful."

"Always am."

_Notes:_

_-So, in case you hadn't already figured it out from my strong hints in the notes section of the last chapter, Ursula is the second villain._ _ She's starting to lose her magic, and by extension, her hold on her mansion full of slaves. Hmm…I have a feeling she's going to cause all manner of mischief and mayhem trying to find a way to remedy that little situation._

_-In the current day section, the gang has discovered they need not only Gold's, Regina's and Emma's magic, but also the true love magic of all the major tlk couples on the show (except Outlaw Queen, because they're currently not even in the same realm). I realize, the show hasn't OFFICIALLY revealed Captain Swan to be TL, but come on! We all know how things stand with those two!_

_-Up next: Long long ago in the Enchanted Forest, Edward takes to the pirate's life like a duck to water. He's Hornigold's prize protégé. Hornigold teaches Edward that as piracy goes, having a fearsome reputation is everything…but sometimes using your wits is better than using your sword. In the present day section, the gang descends on the Charmings and asks for their help. Will Snow White and Prince Charming's true love be enough to open a strong enough portal to get everyone to the Enchanted Forest? If so, what will they find when they get there?_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_Enchanted Forest, long, long ago_

Edward looked up as Hornigold stooped to enter the galley where he was finishing his breakfast. He got hastily to his feet. The man commanded respect, and respect he got—from the greenest land-lubber to the most grizzled veteran.

"What say we begin your training, lad?" Hornigold asked as soon as he'd reached Edward's table.

"Aye, Captain," Edward answered, eagerly getting to his feet.

He'd been a crew member on Hornigold's vessel for six weeks now, but it was only in the last one he'd been capable of being a useful contributor to the life of the ship. Before that, he'd spent every last minute in his berth, chamber pot at the ready, his face a continual sickly shade of puce.

The seasickness had hit hard and it hadn't given up without a fight. Edward had heard the snide remarks the other pirates muttered under their breath. He felt their disdain. If his traitorous stomach hadn't consumed his full attention, he would have bristled at their implications, no doubt.

But they were no more than implications. None dared to taunt, mock, or otherwise harass Edward openly because it was more than clear which way the wind blew. For some reason that no one—not even Edward—understood, the young man was something of a favorite with the fearsome Captain Hornigold. The sailors grimly understood that baldly insulting Captain's favorite would be decidedly unhealthy for them.

It didn't stop the mutterings and venomous looks—and it made Edward's blood boil. He was every inch the sailor any of these sewer rats were! He'd show them!

"Excellent!" Hornigold said, clapping Edward on the back. "Get yourself topside, choose a sword from the armory, and prepare to work your skinny little arse off."

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Edward said eagerly. He took a final swig of his coffee and hopped to his feet, eagerly moving in the direction Hornigold had indicated. Finally! At long last he was going to learn swordplay!

"Well, well," a rough voice said, "if it isn't the babe of a landlubber himself!"

The owner of the voice stepped into view, a burly man with a badly receding hairline and impressively bushy mutton-chop whiskers. If Edward was not mistaken, his name was Wallace. "Finally able to peel yerself from yer bunk?"

"Step aside, Wallace," Edward said with bravado, "I've no time for you. I'm to meet the captain on deck any minute. I don't intend to be late"

"My, my!" Wallace said mockingly. "We wouldn't that, now would we? Captain's trained monkey can't be late responding to his master's summons!"

"Out of my way!" Edward snarled, attempting to shove past.

Wallace let fly a string of curses so strong and venomous Edward hadn't even heard half of them before.

"You just going to let him talk to you like that, boy?"

Edward swiveled his head to the side where he saw Hornigold lazily leaning against the mast, one booted foot crossed over the other.

"No sir!" Edward said, the rage bubbling up inside him. It was high time he started proving himself to these mannerless ruffians! Fire blazed in his startlingly light blue eyes, and Wallace's bushy grey brows rose in surprise and consternation. Pulling his fist back, Edward planted it squarely in the larger man's jaw. His hand screamed in protest, but he paid it no mind as he pulled it back for another punch, this one to the man's firm stomach.

With a strangled "Oh!" Wallace doubled over, wind knocked clean from him. But Wallace recovered quickly, and the look on his face when he straightened again was positively frightening. Quick on his feet, Edward quickly ducked the punches the large sailor threw his way.

Even more enraged, Wallace charged, his arms outstretched, a roar like that of a wounded bear erupting from his throat. Edward stood his ground, waiting, waiting for his opponent. A moment before Wallace reached him, Edward extended one booted foot and the other man tripped over it and went crashing to the deck.

And with that, Wallace lost his head completely. Back on his feet he drew his pistol from its holster slung around his waist. He cocked it and pointed it straight at Edward's heart.

"Stand down, Wallace," Hornigold ordered, finally stepping into the fray.

Wallace's hand held steady, and fear began to ripple through Edward. Would he meet his end here on a pirate ship—before he'd even seen his first battle?

Hornigold got in Wallaces face. "_I said stand down!_" Hornigold shouted. The tone seemed to get through to Wallace, and his arm dropped a fraction of an inch.

"But captain…" Wallace began.

Hornigold growled. "Are you disobeying my orders? Because if you are, the plank is right over there. Valuable asset though you are to my enterprise, Wallace, any man who will not follow orders will walk it!"

Wallace dropped his eyes and stood down. "Nay captain. I wouldn't dream of insubordination."

…

With one final swish of the sword, Hornigold disarmed his pupil. Wiping beads of sweat from his brow, Hornigold, laughed, clapping a hand on Edward's shoulder.

"That was the best to date, me lad!" he said, pride beaming in his voice. "A few more weeks and you'll be disarming me."

Edward tried to tamp down the irritation. He'd been training with his mentor for two months and, regardless of what the older man said, he was convinced he was making precious little progress.

"What did I do wrong this time?" he asked. "How did you know just what to do to disarm me?"

"You must learn to control your emotions, my lad," Hornigold said. "Your every thought, every emotion is written across your face. 'Tis child's play for your opponent to anticipate your movements."

Edward nodded in resolve. "Then I'll learn to school my features."

He gripped his sword, a grim look on his face, his annoyance growing.

Hornigold chuckled. You've a ways to go before you reach that objective, I'm afraid. The anger is fairly oozing from your pours. What say you tell me what's really eating at you?"

Edward sighed, dropping his arm back to his side. "How am I _ever_ to win a duel?" He paced in his agitation. "Any man I meet will be bigger, stronger, more experienced than I!"

Hornigold eyed him speculatively. "Ye'll grow larger," he said gently. "In the meantime, use the skills you already possess."

"What skills might those be, pray tell?"

"You're smart," Hornigold said simply. "You've more brains than half my men. Use your cleverness to your advantage. Outsmart your opponent, and use his impression of you to your advantage. Show no fear; convince your opponent he should fear _you._"

"So I'm to play a role?" Edward asked, canting his head to the side, intrigued in spite of himself.

"Aye," Hornigold said with a nod of the head. "I've told you before a man's reputation is his bond. You've the opportunity now to build for yourself the reputation you wish. You want to be one of the most feared pirates on the high seas? Ascertain what you have within yourself that will frighten your opponents. Use it; play it up; make it the object of hushed conversation in sea-port pubs."

Before Edward could continue the conversation, he and Hornigold were interrupted by the first mate.

"Captain," the man said, "a merchant vessel has been spotted off the starboard bow."

Hornigold snapped to attention. "From whence does it hale?"

"It clearly flies Agrabah's flag."

Hornigold laughed and rubbed his hands together. "Agrabah!" he said gleefully. "Our fortunes are made!"

"What's so important about Agrabah?" Edward asked as he hurried to the starboard side. Hornigold pulled his spyglass from his pocket, put it to his eye, and peered at the vessel Edward could only barely make out in the distance. Hornigold whooped, throwing his fist in the air before turning back to Edward.

"They are huge in the spice trade, lad," Hornigold said. "Once we've relieved them of their cargo, we'll be flush for the remainder of the year!"

"There is a problem, Captain," the burly first mate said.

Hornigold stopped abruptly and turned toward his right hand man. "And what might that be?"

The first mate pointed one knobby finger toward the west. "Squall coming up. Looks to be a doozy."

"Perfect!" Hornigold said jubilantly. "Keep the ship in our sights but remain out of plain sight. We wait for the storm and then attack."

"Aye, aye Captain," the first mate said and then rushed off to fulfill his orders.

"We sail _into _the storm?" Edward asked incredulously. It was bloody _madness_!

"Aye, lad," Hornigold said, handing Edward a vest with pockets for all weapons imaginable. "Return to the armory. Arm yourself heavily; all pockets filled. Then, meet me back here."

Hornigold turned away, but Edward dared stop him with a hand to his arm. "Forgive me, captain," he said in a deferential voice, "but might you tell me why we wait for the storm before attacking the Agrabah vessel?"

To Edward's relief, the older man seemed unruffled by the question. "It's a risky strategy, to be sure," he acknowledged, "but one that has borne results in the past. A ship focused on an incoming squall is easy prey. And beyond that, such a daring move can only bolster our image."

Edward nodded. "Very well," he answered. "I've but one question left."

"And what's that, my boy."

Edward shifted his eyes to the side. "I've never killed a man before. I…I'm not sure I'll be capable of doing so."

Hornigold gave him a quick, speculative look. "With any luck, lad, you'll not have to find out this day."

Edward's eyes widened. "You _don't_ plan to put the captain and his crew to the sword?"

Hornigold shook his head deliberately. "Not unless they give us no other choice," he answered gravely. "Human life is a precious thing and I don't take it lightly. If our opponents surrender willingly, they'll suffer no more harm than the loss of their cargo."

"But Captain," Edward said, "all the stories...you're known as a terror, a butcher. You're feared because of your very viciousness!"

Hornigold smiled grimly. "And I've worked hard to cultivate that image. Little actual violence needs be done when ones adversaries are already convinced of your daring and ruthlessness."

"But, this is my first sea battle," Edward continued. "How will I know what to do?"

Hornigold clapped him on the shoulder. "Stick with me, lad and follow your instincts. Neither one will lead you astray."

Adrenaline pumping through his system, Edward rushed off, thoroughly armed himself and rushed back to deck. As the black clouds steadily advanced, marking the approach of the coming storm, his excitement mounted. His first act of piracy! He vowed then and there that today would be a day his victims remembered for the rest of their lives!

_Storybrooke, the Charmings' flat, present day_

David rolled over intending to throw an arm around his sleeping wife…only his arm encountered nothing but empty sheets. He sat up, looked around the darkened bedroom, illuminated only by the digital display of their alarm clock. _11:23_.

Mary Margaret quietly opened the door, tiptoed across the room, and settled back into the bed. David settled her within his embrace and softly kissed her neck. She reached down and laced her hand with his, settling it on her softly rounded belly.

"I'm sorry I woke you," she whispered.

He kissed her again. "Don't worry about it. Everything okay?"

She sighed and then nodded, her short hair tickling his chin with the movement. "I'm fine. It's just that I'm convinced your son's favorite nighttime activity is tap dancing on my bladder."

David chuckled and gently rubbed her belly. He felt a swift kick against his hand. Bending down, he kissed his wife's abdomen. "Now listen to me, little man," he said. "We need to have a serious discussion about the proper way to treat your mother….Don't kick me when I'm talking to you, young man!"

Mary Margaret giggled, then dragged him up for a soft, gentle kiss. "David, you really think our son is going to be any quicker to listen to you than our daughter?"

David laughed against her lips. "Probably not. We specialize at making strong-willed, independent babies."

"Is it surprising considering who their parents are?"

"No, I suppose not."

They fell into a peaceful silence for several moments, and David started to drift back to sleep.

"It was a beautiful wedding, wasn't it?" Mary Margaret asked, shifting to lay her head against his chest.

One arm crooked beneath his head, the other wrapped protectively around his wife and baby. He nodded. "You did a great job, Snow. Everything went off flawlessly."

"It wasn't me," she insisted. "Those were just things, details. It was her. She was radiant, beaming with joy."

David smiled. "I've never seen our daughter looking that incredibly happy. A year and a half ago I never would have believed I'd be saying this, but I'm glad Killian came into her life."

Mary Margaret laughed softly. "Captain Hook! Our daughter is _married_ to Captain freaking Hook!"

"Infamous terror of the high seas. Womanizer extraordinaire," David said.

"We certainly misjudged him. Who would have thought such a scoundrel could have such a big heart, such a capacity for selfless true love?"

David stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. "I'm not sure we did misjudge him…as he was when we first met. He was in a committed relationship with the darkness back then. She changed him."

"Yeah," Mary Margaret said, nodding against his chest, "but he changed her too. He brought the smile back to her face. He broke down the wall she had built around her heart."

"Any idea where they're heading on their honeymoon?"

"Not a clue," Mary Margaret answered. "Killian wanted to keep it a secret. Didn't want anyone dropping in on them, ruining their trip with news of villains or curses or kidnappings, or…"

"Can't blame him there," David said with a smile. "They deserve their two weeks away from the craziness that is Storybrooke."

A knock sounded at the front door. David looked over at the clock. _11:47_. _What in the world?_

"Who could that be at this time of night?" Mary Margaret asked.

"I don't know, but I guess I'd better go find out," David said, hopping from the bed and throwing a white tee-shirt over his bare chest. He heard the creek of the bed as his wife got up as well. Turning on the light in the entryway, David threw the dead bolt, and opened the door.

"Emma!" he said in surprise, "what are you doing here?"

"Hey Dad, Mom," Emma said with a tight smile. "You guys up for another adventure?"

….

Behind her, Emma heard Killian's chuckle at her parents' flabbergasted expressions.

"Care to invite us in, or shall we merely have this conversation in the doorway?" her husband asked in a deep, amused voice.

David shook his head confusedly and then stepped aside. "Of course," he said, "go ahead and come in…all of you."

Emma filed in, followed by Killian and Gold and Belle. Regina brought up the rear.

"Are you hungry?" Mary Margaret asked, heading toward the kitchen. "I can whip something up if you want."

Her mother certainly had this whole "mom" thing figured out!

"Uh…no thanks, Mom."

"Well," Mary Margaret said, clearly at a loss, "um, how about we all settle into the living room, and you can explain to us why you're spending your wedding night with us."

They walked in, choosing seats in the cramped space of the flat. Regina sneered as she passed David. "Nice pajamas, Charming."

Emma looked at what her father was wearing, and had to stifle a laugh. His pajama pants sported cartoon drawings of the seven dwarfs.

"So," her father said once everyone was settled, "what's this all about?"

Within moments they'd laid out the whole convoluted story before her parents.

"And so," Regina said in conclusion. "We need your help. We can't get back to the Enchanted Forest without you."

Her parents looked stunned. For long moments the entire group sat in silence. Killian draped a comforting arm around her shoulders. She reached up and threaded her fingers with his. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

Regina looked at the ground. "Look," she said uncomfortably, "I know this is asking a lot, especially with the baby and all…" She looked up, and the naked anguish in her eyes fairly took Emma's breath away. "And I know our relationship has been…rocky at best…but I can't just leave Robin and Roland to their fate. It broke my heart to lose them the first time when we had to leave them six months ago, but I honestly think it would kill me to be stuck in Storybrooke when they need me…when I know what could happen to them."

Mary Margaret got up from her seat beside David, and went to Regina. Leaning down, she gave the other woman a warm hug. "Regina, of course, we'll help you in any way we can."

"You're sure this letter is authentic?" David asked. "It really comes from Little John? You're sure it's not just some ruse to get us all back to the Enchanted Forest to…I don't know…ambush us?"

"Well, I'm here, aren't I, Dearie?" Gold interjected. "Do you really think I'd consent to go on a wild goose chase? I'm not exactly the 'help people out of the kindness of my heart' type."

"So you do think it's authentic?" David persisted.

"Yeah," Belle answered, from her perch on the arm of Gold's chair, "we do. And even if there's some doubt…are we really willing to take that chance? A little boy's life might be in danger."

Emma watched as her parents shared a significant look. Finally they both nodded and turned back to the group. "Alright. Just give us a chance to get dressed and we're in."

They waited. Regina began to pace. This really was eating at her.

"Don't worry, Regina," Emma said bracingly. "This is going to work. We're going to get back there. The son of a bitch who did this won't know what hit him."

Emma's words seemed to hit their mark. Regina stopped her pacing, took a deep breath, and turned toward her, a resolved look on her face.

"Damn straight!" she said. "He better watch his back. I'm going to kick his ass all the way from here to Oz."

"That's the spirit, love," Killian said.

David and Mary Margaret came back, dressed and ready to go. Here it was; the moment of truth. If even Snow White and Prince Charming's true love wasn't strong enough to open a portal, Emma didn't know what they would do.

Gold directed everyone forward. Emma grasped the trident, felt Killian place his hand on her shoulder, and closed her eyes. She focused all her attention on the task before them. She pictured the Enchanted Forest, pictured Robin and little Roland needing help, felt the love flowing into her from her husband—and hers flowing back into him. A warm, rushing feeling came over her, and despite her closed eyelids, she saw a bright white flash of light fill her parents' flat.

Emma heard a gasp, and opened her eyes to see a huge, swirling vortex where her parents' living room floor used to be.

"It worked," Killian breathed behind her.

Emma turned around and wrapped her arms around Killian. "Well, here we go."

Arms wrapped around each other, Emma and Killian jumped, and felt the light, weightless sensation of falling. A moment later, they dropped to the damp ground. Killian twisted, taking the impact on himself, and Emma's fall was cushioned by his body.

Pushing awkwardly to a seated position, Emma looked around her. Her parents, the Golds, Regina were slowly sitting up, looking around them as well.

Emma got to her feet and offered a hand to her husband. "Killian, we've got to start looking for a different mode of transportation."

He grinned, rubbing at his arm which had come into hard contact with a tree root. "You'll get no argument from me love."

Emma looked around one more time, noted the trees, the dirt road, the stars in the sky. There was no doubt about it. This place couldn't be anywhere but the Enchanted Forest. They'd made it.

_Notes:_

_-And with that, they've made it back to the Enchanted Forest. The first objective has been met. Now all they have to do is figure out what's going on, figure out who the villains are, defeat them, find Robin, rescue Roland, and restore peace and harmony to the realm. :-) _

_-Up next: Ursula's magic is definitely weakening, and it's putting a cramp in her style. How's a girl supposed to enjoy her cushy life and all her luxuries when her slaves may soon be able to break free? Something must be done. She employs a couple of her (well-known to those familiar to the movie) sycophants to scout out Triton's kingdom to find out 1. What's blocking her magic? 2. How might she get it back? In the Enchanted Forest, present day, the gang seeks out the merry men to find out just what's been going on, Regina learns some rather distressing news about Robin, and everyone beds down for the night around one of the Merry Men's campfires. ._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_Waters off the Enchanted Forest, about a year before the 1__st__ curse_

Ursula sat before her fabulous gilt-framed mirror and studied her features critically. Her white hair was starting to get a little flat. She'd have to do something about that soon. She patted her up-do with one fat, well-manicured hand. She noticed said hand in mirror, and abruptly brought it down before her face. Frowning, she studied the chipped polish. The salt-water really was murder on the nails.

"Fiona!" she called over her shoulder. The small red-head really was the best Ursula had found when it came to manicures. Her abilities were next door to magic.

Ursula waited long moments, but no Fiona, dazed and compliant, showed up at the door of her boudoir. Odd. Very odd.

"Fiona!" she called again, more forcefully this time. Still nothing.

Ursula huffed her annoyance as she got heavily to her tentacles and swam out the doorway. She headed to the servant's quarters and entered with reluctance. They kind of freaked her out, these compliant, soul-less creatures. Yes, they always did her will quickly and efficiently, and she had no problem with them on an individual basis. But put them all together, and she half expected some kind of fish-zombie apocalypse!

Scanning the room, she found dozens of familiar faces—those who had broken deals with her, those who had double crossed her, and those who just annoyed her with their terrible fashion sense. Seriously! Isn't it common knowledge that when you have a bright orange tail you can't wear pink?

Yes, she saw scores of familiar faces…but not the one she was looking for. Where under the sea could that mer-girl have gotten to? It wasn't like she had anywhere else to go. When they weren't busy fulfilling Ursula's every desire, the servants stuck to their quarters here.

A terrible suspicion began to blossom within Ursula's chest. What if…? But no! It wasn't possible! True, Ursula had been a little off her game lately, and her magic was definitely weakened, but surely none of her minions had managed to _escape_.

Beating a hasty exit, Ursula rushed pell-mell to her garden. She counted, row after row of miserable creatures, everyone in their proper place. She began to sigh with relief. All was as it should be. She turned away, but then something…or rather the _lack_ of something caught her eye. There! In the far corner, where once Fiona's soul had languished away, there was…_nothing_! Nothing but a small patch of silt that had clearly been uprooted.

Ursula put a hand to her heart feeling the walls close in, dread, fear and anger coursing through her. She'd _escaped_? Fiona had escaped! How was that possible? Never in the ten years since she began collecting souls had she lost one. Never had she even come close.

"Flotsam! Jetsam!" she called, ashamed of the panic in her voice. She waited, and her pet catfish swam up, looking at her with deep soulful eyes. Absently Ursula began stroking him. She'd raised Tigger from a tadpole, and he always knew when she needed consoling.

Her slimy twin eels slithered in, oily smiles on their faces.

"Yes, your rotundness?" Flotsam hissed with a horrible imitation of a smile. "How can Flotsam and Jetsam serve you today?"

"I've got a problem," she said. She saw the two exchange a look, one freakishly glowing yellow eye meeting the other.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll make no wise cracks," she hissed right back. "I still haven't ruled out eel on my menu plans."

"We wouldn't dream of making any…as you call them…_wise cracks_, o liege most gluttonous," Jetsam intoned officiously. Ursula rolled her eyes. Again with the barbs about her rapidly expanding girth? Could she help it that she liked to eat and eat well? If obesity was the price of being well-fed and fabulous, she was more than willing to pay it.

"What might your problem be?" Flotsam asked.

"I seem to have misplaced Fiona," Ursuala said with irritation.

The eels shared an inscrutable glance. "You've lost your servant?" they asked in unison.

These slimy fish were creepy as hell sometimes. Whoever coined the phrase "slippery as an eel" knew what he was talking about.

"Certainly looks that way," Ursula answered, "Her soul's missing from the garden."

"And what do you wish of us?" Flotsam asked.

The fear-fueled anger bubbled up within her. "I want to know where she is, how she escaped, why my magic is evaporating, how I can get it back and I want you two to find the answers for me."

She held up a short stubby finger with each demand as though enumerating.

"How shall we determine that information, o must corpulent one?"

Ursula closed her eyes and counted to twenty-five. Counting to ten just wasn't gonna cut it today. These two could drive an angelfish to murder! Finally she answered slowly, gently with very hard fought-for patience.

"When I ask for your help, where do I normally send you?"

"To King Triton's kingdom."

"Yes. And why do I send you there?"

"Because you've been banned from going yourself."

"Exactly. And what else?"

"Because everyone knows you and would clam up rather than give you information."

"And?"

"Everyone thinks eels are nothing but dumb beasts with no intelligence, so they don't watch what they say around us."

"Very good," she answered in a voice as condescending as she might have used for her catfish. "But we know better, don't we? Eels are not dumb beasts without intelligence."

They eyed each other again but remained mute. She could fairly see the wheels turning in their devious little heads.

Finally Flotsam bowed. "As always, your wish is our command."

The pair slithered off together in the general direction of Triton's kingdom. Ursula grumpily flounced back onto the stool that stood before her make-up table. Tigger swam into her lap, and looked adoringly up at her.

Why did she even keep the eels at her side? They drove her nuts! On the other hand, they did do her bidding…always…and very effectively. Really their benefit far outweighed their downfalls.

The pair had slithered into her life around five months after her banishment. She'd finally started to establish herself in her fabulous mansion. She already had a handful of zombie-servants, and everything was looking up. One day the slimy twins had simply swam up to her, welcomed her to the neighborhood and offered their services whenever they were needed.

She hadn't quite trusted them. They were, after all, more than a little _fishy_, but, hey! Who was she to deny her fellow aquatic beings the opportunity to help their neighbor?

And in the nine and a half years since they'd appeared, they'd been more than a little useful. They were her eyes and ears within Triton's kingdom. They'd lured more than a few of her servants to her. They'd provided her with more than a few exotic foods and other luxuries that she simply could not live without.

In return, Ursula had allowed them to share in her spoils. They lived the life of luxury themselves, owning their own private mansion within her grounds.

Oh, Ursula had no delusions that they truly held any loyalty to her. They could turn on her at any moment…and they no doubt would if she ever lost her power and fortune. But for now, she would take every advantage they lobbed her way.

In less than an hour Flotsam and Jetsam returned, self-satisfied looks on their oily faces.

"Got some news for me?" she asked casually, attempting to affect unconcern.

Flotsam smiled at her in a way that told her he knew full well just how concerned she truly was.

"Yessss," he hissed, sounding like a large, aquatic snake. "Bad news."

She waited. The pair simply looked at her, smirks firmly in place.

"Well?" she finally burst forth. "Just what is this 'bad news'?"

"I fear, o large one," Jetsam said with a bow, "that Fiona is lost to you forever."

"What do you mean?"

"She's returned to her family—a very wealthy, well connected family. She's received protection from Triton's personal body guards.

Well, that was a blow. No way to get her back if Triton was _personally_ guarding her. Ursula's beauty regimen would _severely_ suffer. That little doll face was the best beautician she'd ever had.

"How'd she escape?"

"That information was not forthcoming oh most malodorous one."

Malodorous? She smelled just fine, thank you very much! So what if she'd been simply too depressed to bathe herself in the past week…ever since she'd first discovered her magic was slipping?

"All right then baby cakes, what about my other questions. Why's my magic draining?"

"It would seem," Flotsam started.

"Love is the culprit," Jetsam finished.

"Love?"

"Yesss. Deep abiding love has come to Triton's kingdom, and as you know, the light magic of love sucks away any dark magic in its vicinity."

"You call what I do 'dark magic'?"

Flotsam gave her a significant look. "You tear people's souls out and force them to be your slaves for eternity."

Unfortunately, he had a bit of a point.

"So love, huh? You telling me that geriatric fool found _love_?"

"Not Triton, most portly one. His daughter," Jetsam began.

"His youngest daughter, Ariel," Flotsam finished.

"What? That guppy? She's nothing but a baby."

"She is eighteen, far old enough for tender feelings to take hold."

"But…but…" Ursula sputtered. "Triton's other daughters married, for Poseidon's sake! They fell in love and I didn't start losing my powers!"

"Ah!" Flotsam said with a superior little chuckle, "but Ariel's love has two significant differences."

"And those are…"

"Firstly, her love is true love. It has been decades since _true love_ has come to Triton's kingdom. Regular love cannot hold a candle to true love when it comes to the power to cast out evil."

"Fine, fine, Triton's little brat is in _true love_. What's the second difference?

Jetsam moved closer. "She's in love with a _human_."

"A _human_?" Ursula erupted in a voice that couldn't have been more shocked if the eel had told her Ariel was in love with a tarantula. "And he…returns her feelings?"

"Not as yet," Flotsam answered. "As yet, he doesn't know she's alive. Fearing he might not be a fan of her fins and tail, the young princess has merely worshipped from afar."

"Well, how can it be true love then?"

"Ariel will find a way," Flotsam said. "True love always finds a way. And when she does…"

"It will be a true love that transcends worlds," Jetsam finished.

Oh this was not good. This was not good at all!

"Okay," Ursula said releasing a long sigh. Might as well hear all of it at once. "And about my other question. What'd you find there? Any way I can get my magic back."

"You'll have very few options, my pudgy benefactress," Flotsam said.

"Perhaps there is one slim chance for you," Jetsam added.

"And," Ursula said irritably when the eels clammed up. "What precisely is that one chance?"

"King Triton's power comes from one single source, the most powerful magical object in any realm. His trident," Flotsam said.

"Find a way to get your tentacles on the trident, and you will never want for magic or power again," Jetsam finished.

_The Enchanted Forest, present day_

Regina groaned as she hit the wet, loamy ground. What she wouldn't give for a gentler, friendlier method of traveling across realms!

Pushing to her feet, she swiped at the dirt on her blouse and slacks, and then looked around. They'd all made it—Rumple and Belle, Emma and her pirate, even the Charmings. The dream team. They'd managed to get Henry back from Pan, and they would manage to get Roland and Robin back from—well whatever abysmally stupid person had taken them.

A sense of elation filled her, along with a new resolve. The hardest part was behind them. They'd accomplished the impossible—crossing realms. Now all they had to do was defeat the enemy. Between the Evil Queen, the Dark One, the Savior, the pirate, and, yes, even the heroes and the bookworm they were a force to be reckoned with.

"Everybody okay?" Emma asked, scanning the group.

A chorus of both groans and yeses greeted her.

"How about you Mom?" Emma persisted, "the baby okay?"

Snow put a hand to her abdomen and smiled. "From the way this little guy is kicking, I'd say he didn't appreciate the jolt, but other than that he seems fine."

"Good," Emma said. "So what's our next move?"

"We find the Merry Men and get some answers," Regina said firmly.

"Where do you suggest we begin our search, your majesty?" Hook asked brushing at his leather pants.

Regina looked around trying to get her bearings. A moment later she smiled. She knew exactly where they were, and if her guess was right, they'd find the outlaws in a matter of minutes.

"We're less than a mile from Friar Tuck's stone cottage," Regina said.

"And what, precisely makes you think we'll find anyone there this time of year, Dearie?" Rumple asked. The note of sarcasm that was ever present in his voice was going to get old fast.

"I don't know if we will or we won't," Regina said, "but we've got to start somewhere. You have a better idea?"

"None at all," Rumple said with exquisite unconcern.

"Alright then," Emma said, grabbing Killian's hand and stepping onto the dirt path, "Friar Tuck's cottage it is."

They walked the quarter mile to the cottage in silence. If only Regina could silence the thoughts in her head. Horrible possibilities that she'd hitherto refused to even think about came to her mind in stark clarity. Visions of Robin lying in the forest bleeding, broken, dead. Visions of some nameless, faceless villain torturing little Roland. What if they were too late?

"Who goes there?" came a voice in front of them. Regina listened carefully, trying to place it. It was lyrical, almost musical.

_Of course_! Alan-a-Dale, the outlaws' resident minstrel!

Regina saw her companions reach for their various weapons, and she stopped them with a hand in the air. "It's okay," she said in a whisper, "he's a friend."

"I'll ask you once more," Alan-a-Dale said, his voice harsher this time. "Who goes there? I swear on the Holy Writ itself I'll let no foe pass this night, be he the very devil who attacked us before!"

"Don't fear, Alan," Regina said gently, stepping forward. "We mean you no harm."

Alan-a-dale stepped forward into the moonlight. He was a young man, slim and lithe. He held a bow in his hand, and his ever-present lute was slung onto his back.

"My lady?" he asked hopefully, "is it truly you?"

"Yeah," Regina said, stepping forward. "We got Little John's message, and came as soon as we could."

"Praise be to God," Alan-a-Dale muttered, breathing a sigh of obvious relief. "We're sorely beset and desperately in need of your help."

"Well, we're here now," Emma said to Regina's right. "How 'bout you take us to Little John and fill us in on what went down around here?"

Alan-a-Dale looked around, seeing their whole group for the first time. With each face he saw, his smile grew. "Aye," he said. "Come with me."

Together with the minstrel, they walked the last few steps through the forest, and then the cottage came into view. Tears came into Regina's eyes as memories rushed in. She'd spent some of the best days of her life secluded in this cabin with Robin and Roland. Surreptitiously she swiped at her eyes. Now was not the time for weakness!

Alan stopped the group with an outstretched hand. "Wait here," he said. "I'll alert the others to your presence."

Regina nodded, and watched as the young man stepped into the cottage. Snow White stepped forward and put a hand on Regina's shoulder. Unaccustomed affection welled up within Regina for the other woman. What would their relationship have been were it not for the situation with Daniel? Might they have become friends? Might Regina have been the mentor the young, motherless girl needed?

A moment later, the door opened again and Little John's large form emerged.

"Your Majesty!" he said, rushing to her side. "You have no idea how pleased I am to see you!"

Regina stepped forward, and suddenly confusion reigned. Everyone spoke at once.

"What happened?"

"Any news on Robin and Roland?"

"Who is the blackguard who attacked you?"

"What's our next move?"

"Tell us about the attack."

Little John raised both hands, and waited until silence descended once again. "Patience! All shall be revealed, but first…"

The man hesitated and gave Regina a pitying look. Dread pooled in her stomach. She knew instinctively something bad was coming.

"But first what?" she asked, her tone sharper than she'd intended in her fear.

"Your majesty…" he said slowly. "We found Robin Hood. Not more than minutes after the mermaid took my message."

"You found him?" Emma asked intently. "Where is he?"

Little John never took his eyes from Regina. "He is inside. Come with me."

Anxiety coursing through her body, Regina did as Little John asked and followed him through the main room of the cottage, through the small door, and into the dwelling's one bedroom.

Her eyes took in Friar Tuck, sitting in a straight backed chair by the bed, his head bowed, his hands folded in obvious prayer.

And then she saw Robin lying utterly still and motionless in the bed. With a strangled cry she rushed forward until she reached the bed. Robin looked terrible. To say he was battered and bruised would be a vast understatement. A large, white bandage, looking more like a turban, swaddled his head. One eye was blackened and swollen shut. His lip was bloodied, and numerous bruises and lacerations marred his handsome face. One arm was supported in a sling, and God only knew what injuries he'd sustained on the lower half of his body which was currently covered with a soft, light blanket.

"Is he…" she asked in a strangled voice, not even able to think the remainder of her question.

Friar Tuck got awkwardly to his feet and placed a large, comforting hand on her shoulder. "No my lady," he said in a deep, soothing voice, "he has not perished. But, I must warn you. His condition remains precarious. He's not regained consciousness since the attack, and I fear he's holding on only by the merest thread."

The tears Regina had been holding back since receiving the letter, finally brimmed over and tracked their way down her suddenly-pale cheeks.

"Is…" she began, barely able to get the word past her tight throat. She coughed and then began again. "Is there anything I can do?"

The large man shook his head. "All we can do is treat his surface wounds and wait until he awakens. Perhaps if you speak to him, let him know you're here, let him know he has something to fight for, something to live for…"

Regina nodded, and then brought her eyes back to Robin's ravaged face. She heard Friar Tuck's shuffling steps and then the closing of the door.

Finally alone with Robin, Regina leaned forward, resting her head on his broad chest. She listened as his heart beat strong and steadily. The sound gave her some measure of comfort. Sitting erect once again, Regina brought her hands gently to his face and caressed the stubbled cheeks.

"Listen to me Robin," she said in an insistent voice. "Don't give up! Do you hear me? You can't give up! You need to get well; your son needs you. We'll get him back, and when we do, he'll need his papa."

She leaned down and gently kissed his forehead just below the bandage. "I love you," she choked out. "Do you hear that? I love you, and if you die…I don't think I could go on. I need you. Please fight…for me, for us, for the life we can have together."

Regina straightened again and looked down at the outlaw. No change. She sighed, and then her back straightened. He was desperately injured and had yet to waken? So be it. She'd care for him and bring him back to the land of the living. Death would have to try a whole lot harder than this if it wanted to separate her from her true love!

…

Killian settled onto a log by the fire outside the cottage and wrapped an arm around Emma. The night was chilly, and he'd seen her shiver.

They sat with the Golds, the Charmings and several of the Merry Men while Regina remained in the cottage with Robin. It was dreadfully late, and Killian saw the lady Snow yawn discreetly behind her hand and lean her head against her husband's shoulder. They were all exhausted, but none wished to sleep before they'd learned what they were up against.

"What exactly happened here, Dearie?" the Crocodile asked?  
Little John stirred the fire with a thin stick, and the flames shot up before settling back into a gentle blaze. "It was two nights ago. It was a peaceful night; not the slightest threat detected. All of the sudden we were under siege by what felt like an entire army of well-armed men who fought like the very devil."

"Who were these men?" Emma asked.

Little John shrugged. "Never saw them before. They looked like sailors…maybe pirates. They were armed to the teeth, and the leader had this aura of...fire and brimstone around him. Insane though it seems, I almost believed we were fighting the devil and a band of his demons."

"What exactly do you mean by 'fire and brimstone'?" Charming asked.

"It looked like his beard was on fire," Mulan said from somewhere on Killian's left. "There was smoke all around him."

Killian's head snapped up. That sounded just like….but it couldn't be! He was dead! Emma gave him a questioning glance, obviously alerted by his sudden movement. He gave his head a slight shake, and she nodded, turning back to the outlaws.

"But that wasn't even the most…other-worldly aspect of our attackers," Alan-a-Dale said, idly strumming at his lute. "They were…impervious to our weapons."

"Impervious?" Belle asked, "What do you mean by that?"

Little John scratched his head. "Our arrows went straight through them without harming them, without making a mark."

"What on earth?" the Lady Snow asked under her breath.

"I don't understand it any better than you, your majesty," Little John said, a troubled look on his face. "I've never seen or even heard of a foe like this."

"If that is the case," Charming asked, "how is it that you escaped with so few casualties? Aside from Robin Hood, I see no one with serious injury."

"That's true," Friar Tuck, the group's appointed healer said with a nod. "It was miraculous, really. Naught but scrapes and bruises."

"The only sense I can make of it is that they had no intention of actually harming us," Mulan said. "They seemed to have just one objective…kidnapping Roland." She shrugged. "I think Robin was only injured because he stood in the way of that objective."

"A band of marauding pirates who passed up an opportunity to pillage and plunder?" the Crocodile asked, shooting Killian a nasty look. Killian rolled his eyes.

"So it would seem," Little John said.

"But why?" Belle asked. "Why kidnap Roland? Neither Robin Hood nor the rest of the Merry Men appear to be overtly wealthy. They couldn't have hoped to extort any significant amount of ransom money from you."

"It would seem," Alan-a-Dale said, "that ransom was not the motive. The leader of the group seemed to be intent on Regina. He wished to lure her back to this realm."

"Why?" Emma asked.

"I can only assume an enemy of hers wishes to exact revenge."

Killian snorted. "Well, that narrows it down. We're looking for someone who has a grievance against the Evil Queen. That only leaves nearly everyone in the Enchanted Forest…and those in a fair number of other realms as well."

"Indeed," the Crocodile said with a grin in Killian's direction, "with only those people on our list, we should be able to zero in on our villain within the hour."

Killian returned the Crocodile's sarcastic grin. Had they just exchanged quips not at each other's expense? It seemed wonders would never cease!

"Just so," Little John agreed with a smile.

The Lady Snow yawned again, and her eyes drifted shut. Charming, looked down at his wife with a tender smile.

"Well," he said, "we won't sort anything else out tonight. I think it's time Snow and I get some sleep."

It took some minutes to sort out, but in due time, Snow and Charming were given the only remaining bed which sat in the main room of the cabin, while the rest of them set sleeping palates on the floor. Killian settled his and Emma's before the fire and then laid down behind his wife.

"I guess we aren't going to get to finish what we started back at Granny's," Emma said, turning in his arms until she was facing him.

Killian grinned, and then leaned forward until his lips captured hers. The need and heat erupted with the force of a wildfire. After long moments, Killian pulled back with a frustrated groan.

"Lass," he said huskily, "I'd give the _Jolly_ for a little privacy."

"You and me both," she replied breathlessly. "I'm starting to think the whole Fairy Tale world is conspiring to keep us from being together, you know, as husband and wife."

Killian pecked her softly on the lips. "Let them do their worst. I'm convinced true love will win in the end."

"Can 'in the end' come soon?"

"We can only hope."

Emma turned over and settled back into his embrace. Despite the frustration, a warm feeling of contentment engulfed Killian. She was his wife! Emma Swan was his wife! He could be patient when it came to the physical expression of their love. After all, they had the rest of their lives to make up for the delay.

_Notes:_

_-First off, I know Ursula's supposed to be the villain, but I just can't take her seriously yet. Maybe when she starts really causing havoc that will change, but for now I can't help but see her as just…ridiculous!_

_-So, Regina found Robin, but he's only barely clinging to life. The rest of the gang got some more details about what all went down in the Enchanted Forest, but there are still more questions than answers. What's up with people who get shot, but can't be harmed?_

_-Up next: Long, long ago, Edward spends the next ten years building up a reputation every bit as fearsome as his mentor's…and he take a more colorful moniker. In the present day section, Killian gets the idea to go to Camelot, to request Arthur's and the Knights' help with their current situation. He and Emma go off together to accomplish that task. Alone at last!_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_Enchanted Forest, long, long ago_

Edward studied himself in the small mirror that sat in the first mate's quarters. The years had taken their toll. Where ten years ago had been a skinny, half-grown eighteen-year-old, now there was a seasoned man. His swarthy face was tanned and shadowed with several weeks' growth of dark beard. His light, almost colorless blue eyes stood out in stark contrast. It was a contrast many found more than a little eerie. It mattered little to Edward. In fact, he thrived on the eeriness of his appearance. More than once he'd used it to his advantage.

A knock came to the door.

"Aye?" Edward called in a rough voice.

"Captain's calling for you," came a young voice. Must be the new cabin boy; Edward couldn't remember his name.

"Very well, lad," Edward answered, getting to his feet and throwing on his expensive doublet.

As he walked down the corridor, Edward thought back over the past decade. He had thrived on the pirate life, as Hornigold had promised he would. The daring adventure, the danger, the raw power, the fear he could elicit at the mere drop of his hat. And, truth be told, the fabulous wealth he'd managed to amass in the ensuing years—wealth that provided him, and more importantly, Anne, with every luxury that could be bought—was more than reason enough to bless the day he'd tried to rob Hornigold on the docks.

Edward reached the captain's quarters and rapped boldly on the door.

"Enter," Hornigold called.

Edward stepped confidently inside and studied the luxurious interior. One day he planned to be a captain in his own right, and he relished the thought of having such a room to call his own. Hornigold stood at the far wall, leaning over his desk, studying a sheet of paper by the light coming from the windows above him.

"Ah, Edward," Hornigold said with a grin beckoning him forward with a quick wave of the hand. "I appreciate your quick response."

Edward stepped up to the window and glanced down at the map of Fairytale Land that sat before Hornigold. "You never call for me unless something important is afoot."

Hornigold chuckled. "Very true, my lad."

At twenty-eight, Edward was far from a lad anymore, but the old methods of address seemed to die hard with the pirate captain.

"A merchant vessel from Camelot has been spotted off the port bow," Hornigold said.

"Camelot!" Edward said with excitement. "If recent rumors can be believed that kingdom has recently come into a good deal of wealth."

"Indeed," Hornigold said with a decisive nod. "It seems a new king has been chosen. Arthur, I believe he's named. The sorcerer Merlin gifted him with a round table destined to protect the kingdom from attack as long as all his knights remain united. Since then, Camelot has been prosperous beyond belief."

"So am I right in assuming we will be relieving Camelot's merchant vessel of its cargo?"

"Aye," Hornigold said with a chuckle. "That we will."

"I shall ready the men. What is our plan of attack?" Having earned the rank of first mate some three years ago, Edward had long since taken it upon himself to prepare the pirates for battle when the time came while Hornigold worked out the last minute details in his study.

"Well, me boy," Hornigold said with a grin, "it so happens that that is precisely the reason I called you here this evening. How would you like to try your hand at running this mission?"

"Me?" Edward asked, startled. "You want _me_ to plan the attack on Camelot"

Hornigold laughed. "Aye. You've more than proven yourself a capable tactician. As I've told you countless times, you're smart, and your intelligence will take you far in this profession."

"Th..thank you," Edward stammered, overwhelmed with the honor he was being afforded. "I'll not disappoint you, Captain!"

"None of that," Hornigold said, nodding away Edward's thanks. "For tonight we switch rolls. So, Captain Teach, what might our plan of attack be?"

Edward studied the map before him. Their position and that of their quarry were clearly marked. Both far out to sea, the conditions were nearly ideal for an attack. No one would be able to come to Camelot's aid before the pirates were finished and long gone.

"It would be my suggestion that we lie low, and then attack after nightfall," Edward said. "The darkness will give us cover, and will showcase our particular…style…to a T."

"Excellent plan, I must say," Hornigold said with a nod. "Now _I'll_ go ready the men while you make whatever last minute preparations you wish."

"Very good, first mate," Edward said with an affected importance that had both men chuckling.

As Hornigold stepped from the captain's quarters, Edward stroked his beard, thinking. He'd been considering a new tactic for some time now, but had been hesitant to broach the topic with Hornigold. On paper it sounded ludicrous, ridiculous. In truth, it sounded next door to suicide! But despite that, Edward couldn't shake the feeling that this idea, this crazy, brilliant idea could make his name…and his very fortune.

Finally, Edward nodded decisively and strode resolutely forward to the cabinet where Hornigold stored his firearms and other weapons. He grabbed a handful of fuses and tied them to several places on his beard. If this worked…if this was successful…word would go out throughout the whole land of the devil that the dreaded Captain Hornigold employed on his pirate ship.

It had been in Edward's very first pirate attack upon the Agrabah spice merchants that he had discovered the power of fire in defeating his enemies. It had been an accident really. He'd boarded the ship, sticking closely to Hornigold. The man had roared and thundered, startling the peaceful merchants with his very ferocity.

But their fright was short lived. After mere moments, it looked as though they planned to fight. Amid the confusion of attackers and attacked, someone, Edward would never know who, shot at him. Instinct kicked in, and he moved to the side, ducking. The bullet fell to the ground, lodging amid a pool of spilled gun powder. Instantly flames and smoke leapt up behind Edward silhouetting him in the murky, storm-tossed night.

The Agrabah merchants had been terrified. They chattered fearfully to each other in their own language, pointing at him and muttering something that sounded vaguely like "devil." Used to thinking on his feet, he'd used the situation to maximum advantage, yelling savagely and pressing forward, brandishing his weapons. The Agrabah merchants backed away fearfully, and soon gave up. They surrendered mere moments after the pirate attack had begun. As the merchants were willing to surrender their cargo willingly, Hornigold had merely taken possession of the spices and left the merchants to go on their not-so-merry way.

The booty they'd retrieved from that attack had been nearly legendary.

Since that time, Edward had been careful to cultivate his image as the devil. With each successive attack, he'd gotten bolder—yelling, brandishing his weapons, flashing his weapon-laden vest, shrouding himself in fire and smoke. But never had he gone quite as far as he planned to go tonight.

….

Three hours later it was all over. Easing into the hot bath he'd called for, Edward let the heat sooth his tired muscles. He smiled to himself, soaping his slightly singed beard. The mission, the first he'd led, had been a complete, unqualified success! It had taken no more than half an hour to convince the Camelot merchants to surrender unconditionally. He couldn't help the small surge of pride as he thought of the part his…fiery…appearance had played in the night's events.

The pirates had approached the Camelot vessel in longboats, making next to no sound as they paddled through the water. As soon as they reached the vessel, they surrounded it, throwing rope ladders over the side. Edward and his pirates had managed to board the ship almost silently. It wasn't until they'd reached the deck that the first merchant noted their presence. He cried out in a startled voice, alerting his companions to the presence of the companions.

Striking a match, Edward had lit the slow-burning fuses tied to his beard, drew his sword and rushed the captain with an unearthly cry. Within moments he was wreathed with fire and smoke. Edward watched as the stark fear blossomed in the captain's eyes.

"Who…who are you?" the man asked in a strangled voice.

"Your worst nightmare," Edward replied in a deep, foreboding voice.

"We're a peaceful vessel!" the captain insisted. "We mean you no harm. What is the meaning of this?"

Sounds of battle raged behind him. Edward knew his men were making far more noise and show than actually fighting.

"You have a choice, captain," Edward said darkly. "On the one hand you can surrender your merchandise to me and my men. On the other, we attack until we have put every man on this vessel to the sword."

The captain had looked belligerent for another moment, but then his eyes had fallen on Edward's flaming beard, and the courage made way for fear.

"Very well," the captain said sullenly. "Make your way to the hold. What you find there is yours."

Edward was brought back to the present with a knock at the door.

"Enter," he called lazily, expecting the cabin boy with another pitcher of hot water. To his surprise, Captain Hornigold himself strode through the door.

"Captain!" Edward said in surprise, preparing to get to his feet.

"Please," Hornigold said, eying the full tub in which Edward currently sat, "don't get up. Remain as you are."

"Very well," Edward said, relaxing. "What can I do for you captain."

"Not a thing, my lad," Hornigold said with a grin. "I merely came to congratulate you on your exceptionally successful mission."

"Thank you," Edward said. "I was pleased with how it went myself."

"Quite the daring move you made with the fuses to the beard. Those merchants won't soon forget the sight, that's for sure!"

Edward chuckled. "If I'm to be known as the devil, I might as well play the part."

Hornigold laughed loud and long. Finally he sobered and then gave Edward an assessing look. Edward was tempted to squirm uncomfortably under the weight of those brown eyes.

"I've come to a decision, Edward," Hornigold finally said, "and I wish you to be the first to hear of it."

"What's that, sir?"

"The king as offered me a full pardon if I abandon my piracy operation and vow to serve him honorably. I have decided to accept the king's generous offer."

Edwards jaw dropped. Hornigold was _giving up_ piracy? "But sir…" Edward said, unsure how he planned to finish the sentence.

"Now Edward," Hornigold said quickly, "this is not a decision I've made lightly. I've fully considered all my options, and the undeniable fact is, I'm getting older. I've no idea how much longer I can continue as I am. Piracy is rewarding but grueling."

"Captain," Edward said, "what will become of your ship? Of your operation?"

Hornigold eyed him for several moments. "I've no doubt my legacy will continue. I intend to bequeath my ship to my most trusted man, to my most capable pirate. In short, I wish _you_ to succeed me as captain."

"_Me_?" Edward squeaked in a tight voice. "You want _me_ to be captain?"

"Aye," Hornigold said with a decisive nod. "Tonight was a test of sorts. I've long known of your bravery, of your intelligence, of your resourcefulness. Tonight I wished to determine the success with which you could lead a mission. You exceeded my every expectation. Should you choose to accept, the ship is yours."

"I accept!" Edward nearly shouted. "With deepest thanks, I accept!"

"Good," Hornigold said, clapping him on the back. "I have but one suggestion.

"What's that, Captain."

"You've built for yourself an aura of danger and mystery," Hornigold said, "an image that the name 'Edward Teach' doesn't precisely match. I suggest you take for yourself a moniker."

Edward thought for a moment and considered various possibilities. As he thought of his most prominent feature…the feature that had brought him such success in his mission, he knew precisely what name he would chose for himself.

"Blackbeard," he said. "I shall be known as Blackbeard."

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

Emma opened her eyes and yawned widely. She lay on the ground, the dying embers of a fire before her, a warm presence behind, and an arm laid comfortingly on her waist. For a moment she was disoriented. _Where was she? What was she doing here?_

"Morning, love," Killian murmured softly, his warm breath tickling her ear. He gently kissed the nape of her neck and she smiled.

She turned in his embrace, and kissed him thoroughly. He smiled against her lips.

"And just what occasioned that delightful little outburst?" he asked.

She shrugged. "It seemed like the appropriate way for a wife to greet her husband in the morning."

His smile turned decidedly wicked. "While I won't complain, darling, my idea of the proper way a husband and wife should greet each other in the morning requires a far sight more privacy than we've currently been afforded."

Emma couldn't help the blush that spread over her cheeks at the thoughts and images his words brought to mind. "Someday, pirate," she said.

"Someday soon," he agreed, and she could hear the resolve beneath his light, almost teasing words.

The door softly closed, and Emma looked up to see her mother creeping softly through the cottage.

"Sorry, Emma!" Snow said, "I hope I didn't wake you two!"

"Nah," Emma said, getting to a seated position, "we were already awake. So what's up? Where's Dad?"

Snow stepped forward and placed another log on the fire. "Your father's started a fire outside and has begun breakfast. He and Little John have begun to talk strategy again."

"Perhaps I'll join them," Killian said, getting to his feet and offering Emma a hand up. "It could be that I could be of use to the prince."

Emma kissed him and then shooed him forward. "Go," she said playfully. "I know you want some quality time with your best mate."

He grinned and gave her a quick peck. "Going to join me, love?"

"In a minute," she said. "I just want to check in on Regina and Robin."

Emma watched her husband leave, and then turned her eyes to the closed bedroom door. Regina had gone to Robin as soon as Alan-a-Dale had told her of his condition, and, to Emma's knowledge, she hadn't reemerged since.

"Heard anything about Robin?" Emma asked her mother.

Snow looked troubled. "No," she said slowly. "Regina hasn't left his side. I get the impression he's in a really bad way, though."

Emma had no doubt about that from the brief glance she'd gotten of the outlaw the night before. He looked…there was no other way to put it…he looked like hell. What had happened to him? Who had attacked him? How had he received so many…and such severe…injuries?

"I'm going to see how she's doing," Emma said, stepping determinedly to the bedroom door. She rapped softly, and a moment later, Regina's weary voice called for her to enter.

Regina lay on the bed beside the motionless man. The look of pain and anguish on Regina's face cut at Emma.

"How is he?" Emma asked, stepping into the room and looking down at the outlaw. His bruises stood out in stark contrast to his pallor, the bloody cuts finally beginning to scab over.

Regina shrugged, gently sweeping Robin's wheat-colored hair off his forehead. "No change. I hate feeling so helpless!"

"I'm sorry," Emma said helplessly. "If there's anything I can do…"

Regina looked up, and the old "evil queen" fire lit her eyes. "Find him," she growled. "Find the son of a bitch who did this to him. And when you do, bring him to me. He won't soon forget what happens to those who attack _my _loved ones!"

Emma stepped forward, and placed a hand on Regina's shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll find out who did this, and we'll get Roland back. Safe and sound."

"The villain just better hope that not a hair on that little boy's head is harmed!" Regina said fiercely.

"Look," Emma said. "My dad and my husband are already strategizing. I'm going to go join them. We'll get started on the search as soon as we've had breakfast."

Regina nodded, and Emma turned and headed toward the door.

"Emma?" Regina said softly, and Emma stopped and turned toward the other woman.

"Yeah?"

"I know I don't say it much, or very well, but thank you. I really appreciate all you're doing for Robin and me."

Emma smiled. "Don't worry about it, Regina. We're family, and that's what family does."

….

Two hours later Emma found herself walking beside her husband, barely even aware of the beauty of the June morning. She'd left the cottage after her talk with Regina to find her father, her husband and Mr. Gold in a heated discussion about just what was their best way forward.

"We need to attack now while we still have the element of surprise!" Charming insisted. "When the enemy knows we're here he'll be able to mount a defense."

"Just who do you propose we attack, dearie?" Gold said sarcastically. "We don't even know who kidnapped the boy."

"But every moment we wait is a moment longer Roland is in his clutches. Who knows what he might do to him!" Charming insisted.

"I'm shocked to hear myself saying this," Killian said with a wry smile, "but I agree with the Crocodile. Charming, we haven't any idea who attacked the merry men. All we have is Little John's vague description of a 'pirate' who looked like the devil. In my experience a fair few pirates fit that description."

Charming growled in frustration, got to his feet and started to pace. "So what? We just sit here, twiddling our thumbs while we wait for Robin to wake up, and hopefully give us a better description of his attacker?"

"Nay," Killian said. "What we do now is amass allies. Send a delegation to the queen's palace. Determine who has been ruling in your and the Lady Snow's stead."

Charming stopped pacing and turned to look assessingly at Killian. Finally he nodded. "Your idea has its merits, Killian. You got anything else?"

"Camelot," Killian said simply. "We've more than a few allies in Camelot. Send the lass and me to Arthur. I've no doubt we'll find the round table populated with more than a few knights willing to help us."

"And you'll have a chance to see your father again," Snow said gently.

"Aye," Killian said with a smile. "I won't deny I long to see him again."

And so here they were at midmorning, walking hand and hand through the desert-like No-Man's-Land.

Memory rose up to greet Emma as she walked. Could it only have been half a year ago that she and Killian had first gone to Camelot, intent on defeating Morgana Le Fay and restoring the Round Table?  
"Well, at least this time we won't have any evil witches waiting for us when we get to the castle," Emma quipped.

Killian turned toward her, his eyes vaguely unfocussed. "Hmm?" he asked, "I beg your pardon love."

She shot him a curious look. "What's going on with you today? You've barely said two words since we left the Enchanted Forest."

"Not to worry, Swan," he said absently. "There's nothing amiss."

She eyed him. "Come on Killian, You're obviously upset about something. What's going on?"

He looked at her for long moments and then sighed. "It makes no sense, love."

"_What_ makes no sense?"

"The man Little John described? The leader? Little John described t man, a pirate I once went up against."

"That's good, isn't it?" Emma asked carefully, looking up at her husband's troubled face. "If we know who we're dealing with, we're a step ahead of where we were last night."

Killian shook his head. "That's precisely the problem. The man I'm thinking of is dead."

"Dead?" Emma asked, "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely positive."

"How can you be so sure?"

Killian gave her a long look and then dropped his eyes. "I'm the man who killed him, lass."

Emma gasped, taken aback. Killian had changed so much from his days as Captain Hook that sometimes Emma forgot about his pirate past. She let her breath out slowly.

"Well, that might put a crimp in someone's kidnapping plans," Emma said dryly.

Killian laughed and then brought their combined hands to his lips. "That it would, love. But that brings us to another issue entirely."

"What's that?"

"The blackguard is clearly imitating the man in question," he said ominously, "and if he's even half as ruthless…well, this will be one of the most formidable fights of our lives."

….

Dusk was just beginning to paint the sky as Emma and Killian stepped into the forests of Camelot. It would take scarcely an hour to walk the remaining distance to Camelot Castle, but in truth, that wasn't Killian's destination. He'd been quite sincere in stating his desire to see his father. He'd further been quite sincere in his desire to secure the Round Table's help.

But that wasn't his only desire. Not nearly.

Quite simply, Killian desired a little time alone with his wife. Perhaps they would be denied the lavish fortnight-long honeymoon they'd planned, but that didn't mean they had to forego a honeymoon entirely. Now—while they were currently at a standstill, while nothing more could be done for Robin or his lad—now was the perfect time.

And when he considered carefully, one place came to mind. It was truly the best and only place for him to spend his first _real_ night with his lovely bride.

"Welcome back to Camelot, my lady," he said softly, grin in place.

"Welcome back yourself," she responded, playfully elbowing him.

"Let's hope our visit is more pleasurable than the last time we were here," he said.

"What?" she asked with a saucy smile, "Where's your sense of adventure? You don't want to be ambushed, imprisoned and tortured by an evil sorceress and forced by her to convince me you don't love me? You don't want a sorceress who's impersonating me to try and seduce you to get you to reveal the location of an item that could destroy her?"

His answering grin was pure pirate. "Nay lass. I do believe I should like to forego all those pleasures. I would not, however, be averse to _you_ attempting to seduce me."

She laughed, the joyous sound magic to his ears. "You never know. The night is young."

His eyes smoldered, and he leaned forward and kissed her until they were both gasping for air.

"A little taste," Killian said huskily, forehead pressed against hers, "until you're able to sample the full meal."

She stepped back and began fanning herself with one slim hand. "Well, that was…" she began, "If that was the appetizer, I don't know if we'll survive the meal. We might just set the bed on fire and burn the house down around us!"

He laughed. "If that's the case, darling, at least we'll die happy."

He took her hand and began leading her forward once again. Ten minutes later, Emma finally noticed the obvious.

"Um, Killian, we're not going the right way." She pointed to the left. "The castle's that way."

"Right you are, my love," he said with a grin, "but it just so happens we're not _going_ to the castle."  
"We're not?"

"Nay."

"Then where are we going?"

"Just wait and see."

A moment later they reached the old, run-down cottage they'd called home during their last sojourn in Camelot.

"Our cottage?" Emma asked. "We're headed to our cottage?"

"Aye."

"But why?"

He moved forward, invading her space. "Because I wished to spend a little quality time alone with my wife."

Emma stepped back and looked away. "Killian, I'd _love_ to, but we've got a villain to defeat and a little boy to rescue and…"

Killian stopped her with a finger to her lips. "Love, there's naught any of us can do to accomplish those goals tonight. Our mission will not suffer if we take a few precious hours for ourselves."

"I suppose you're right," she conceded.

"Of course I am," he said with a grin. "Besides, with the lives we lead, I fear we'd never consummate our union if we waited for times of peace and serenity."

"You're _definitely_ right about that."

He led, her forward into the cabin.

"So we're really doing this?" she asked.

"Aye," he answered, "unless you've any objection."

She was silent for a moment, merely looking at him.

"Um," she said, putting one finger in the air, "hold on a second."

With that, Emma rushed out the door. Killian stood rooted to the spot; off-kilter, wondering what on earth had just transpired. A moment later he saw a flash of white light, and then Emma was back. She shut the door and then raised her hands, concentrating carefully. A second blast of light flew from her hands and connected with the door. Then she turned back toward him with a sly smile.

"I'm not taking any chances this time," she said. She gestured toward the door. "Impervious spell on the door. Nobody's getting through that baby. Oh, and cloaking spell on the whole cabin. We're officially invisible."

"Lass, you're a marvel!" he said, rushing to her. He kissed her deeply, passionately, his hand tangling in her hair, hers fumbling with the clasps on his leather vest. Killian quite literally swept her off her feet and into his arms, somehow managing to accomplish the task without breaking the kiss.

Finally they broke apart. "I love you, Emma," he whispered almost reverently.

She framed his face with her hands and leaned down to kiss him gently. "I love you too, Killian, more than I could have ever believed possible."

He walked forward until his legs hit the bed. He set her gently upon it, climbed forward to join her, and loved her with everything within him long into the night.

_Notes:_

_-So, there you have it. Edward Teach is officially revealed to be Blackbeard. Crazy though it sounds, the real Blackbeard actually did put long-burning fuses in his beard and lit them before his acts of piracy. More often than not, his victims were so freaked out they just gave up right then and there. Also, Hornigold really was granted a pardon—only it was by the King of England, I believe, not by the King of the Enchanted Forest._

_-And in the present day section, we take a break from our regularly scheduled adventure for a little Captain Swan honeymoon. They finally get their wedding night. Yay! _

_-One small note on names. Killian still occasionally calls Emma "Swan." Yes, I'm aware that's not technically her name anymore, but I see that as kind of one of his affectionate nicknames for her, so I figured he wouldn't give it up entirely._

_-Up next: About a year before the first curse, Ursula comes up with a plan to get her hands on Triton's trident—a plan involving a certain red-headed daughter of Triton. In the present day section, Killian and Emma emerge from their cottage—eventually—and make their way to Arthur's castle to request his help._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

_Waters off the Enchanted Forest, around a year before the 1__st__ curse_

Ursula sat at her opulent table in her luxurious dining room. Her servants had outdone themselves with her dinner tonight. Everything looked delectable and smelled simply divine, but Ursula merely picked at her food. She doubted it had ever happened to her before, but tonight she was too worried to eat.

She was losing her powers, and the only item capable of restoring them was effectively out of her reach. _How_ was she to get her tentacles on the trident? Triton had enchanted the borders of his kingdom to keep her out, and she didn't trust Flotsam and Jetsam as far as she could throw them.

And then inspiration struck. Though it might be diminishing, she still had magic. Was it enough to transform herself? What if she showed up on Triton's doorstep, not as a rotund octopus, but as a young, innocent, beautiful mermaid? She'd seen enough poor unfortunate souls in her day to imitate them perfectly.

Appetite restored, Ursula made short work of the feast set before her, and then hurried to her study. Half an hour later, she didn't even recognize herself in the mirror. Long, straight black hair, bright blue eyes, delicate features, violet tail. She was gorgeous. Believe it or not, she was even more gorgeous than she was in her normal state. It was _perfect_!

She swam listlessly toward Triton's kingdom, spending the time thinking up a plausible cover story. If she was going to do this, she might as well do this right. Her name was…let's see…Vanessa. She'd made a deal with the sea witch, Ursula, and she'd only just escaped becoming one of her slaves.

It was perfect really. Who would expect _Ursula_ to show up at the kingdom line badmouthing, well, Ursula?

In less than an hour, the shining, prosperous city along Triton's southern border came into view. It was beautiful! Just think! Once she had the trident, all of this would be at her disposal as well. She could _run_ the kingdom if she wanted to. Ursula pulled a disgusted face. Why would she _want_ to run the kingdom? Far, far, far too much work. No, she'd let Triton remain "in charge," but she'd keep him under her perfectly manicured thumb. He stuck one fin out of line, she'd stick him with his own trident.

She was so engrossed in the vision of her power and wealth that she nearly forgot to play the part. She only just managed to wipe the smile from her face before she came upon the two beefy sentries that stood guard just outside the kingdom gates.

"Who goes there?" came from the first, a bronzed Adonis with flowing blond locks that must be the envy of every mermaid under the see.

"State your name and your business!" demanded the other, an equally fine specimen of merman with ebony skin and piercing milk-chocolate eyes.

Oh she might just keep these two around when she was in charge. She could use a couple of mer-boy toys.

She turned on the water works. "Please, please help me!" she cried in a voice far too soft and gentle to be real.

The blond Greek god swam forward and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "What is amiss, my lady?"

"My name is Vanessa, and I am in desperate trouble!"

"What is this trouble? How can we help you?" This from the delectable hunk of black mermanhood.

"It's the sea witch!" Ursula wailed, "she's after me! She tricked me, and now she wants to plant my soul in her garden!"

Both guys gasped and donned identical outraged expressions.

"She'll not get to you under our watch, my lady!"

"Quickly, swim forward, the border's been enchanted to keep Ursula out. You'll be safe as soon as you've passed into the kingdom."

Ursula was quick to oblige. She swam forward with a speed hitherto unimagined. It was going to work! It was going to…_splat_! It was as though she ran into a very hard, very solid invisible wall. Suddenly Ursula felt the sensation of slightly-too-warm bathwater whooshing over her.

The guards gasped, and Ursula looked down. Drat! She was back to her slightly bulbous octopus form! The blond guard growled deep in his chest and raised his trident. A bolt of fire shot from it right in her direction. They had _fire_? _Under water_?

Not waiting to see what else they had up their non-existent sleeves, Ursula turned tail and swam for her life. What _was_ that at the border of the kingdom? She knew she wouldn't be able to make it in as Ursula, but since when were town lines clever enough to detect transfiguration disguises?

….

"Flotsam! Jetsam! Get your slimy little eel butts in here!" Ursula shrieked as soon as she'd made her way safely back to her mansion.

A moment later the pair wandered lazily in. "Yes, Your Chunkiness?" Flotsam asked with a tiny mocking nod of his head.

"What's the deal?" She asked, pacing her sitting room. "Why couldn't I get across the border into Triton's kingdom?"

The eels eyed each other, and then Jetsam spoke slowly and carefully, like you might speak to someone from the loony bin. "Triton enchanted it to keep you out, o most fat one."

"I know that," she said in a voice heavily laced with sarcasm, "but I didn't go as _myself_. I went as a beautiful young mermaid named Vanessa."

The two eyed each other again. "The transformation must have taken hours," one of them muttered under his breath.

"For your information, it took less than half an hour, you little amoeba brain!"

The other one scoffed. He actually _scoffed_!

"Well, never mind that now!" Ursula said irritably. "Why'd Vanessa get a bucket of scalding water dropped over her head?"

"Did you not know?" Flotsam asked. "The enchantment goes beyond merely keeping _you_ out. He's also employed a dark-detector. No one with dark magic power can cross the border."

"Drat! Now how am I going to get the trident?"

"Have you tried asking Triton to give it to you?" Flotsam asked.

She stared at him. Clearly he'd been spending way too much time with the electric eels; they were frying his brain. "Yeah," she huffed, "I'm sure if I went up to the border, said 'Pretty please, King Triton! Please give me your trident so I can control you and your kingdom!" he'd just hand it over!"

"Maybe not," Jetsam said, "but never underestimate the power of good, old-fashioned blackmail."

"Take Triton's most prized 'possession'," Jetsam began.

"And he'll give you anything you like to get it back," Flotsam finished.

Interesting. Occasionally these slippery fish came up with an idea that had merit. "Just what might his most prized possession be?"

"Not 'what'," Flotsam said.

"But 'who'," Jetsam finished.

"His daughters!" Ursula gasped. The eels nodded, creepy grins in place.

"Now who shall I target?"

"I suggest, Your Stoutness," Flotsam said, "that you focus your attention on Ariel."

"Of course!" Ursula said, snapping her fingers. "You said she has a thing for a human? Ought to be a piece of crab cake to convince her to make a deal with me…and once I do, I've got her!"

_Camelot, present day_

Emma opened her eyes to bright sunlight filtering through the cottage's one window, and an extremely chipper bird singing his little head off in a tree nearby. A delighted smile draped her mouth. She only wondered why all the birds in the forest weren't singing a symphony.

Her head lay against Killian's bare chest, his strong heartbeat under her ear, his arm holding her close. Her husband was _amazing_! She'd never even imagined it could be like that. Killian had been one big amalgamation of aching tenderness, breathless passion, and wild abandon. He'd once told her she was an open book to him, and well could she believe it after last night. He'd anticipated her every desire and fulfilled it beyond her wildest dreams.

Emma let her eyes drift shut for another moment, and let her mind drift back over every beautiful, intimate, breathless moment of it. The need for her husband roared to life once again, and she raised up on one hand and took his mouth with her own. He groaned, muttered her name, and took her into his arms before he was even fully awake.

She laughed. "Morning, husband. Happy to see me?"

He grinned down at her. "Good morning, wife. Ecstatic, as always."

He kissed her long and deeply, but she pulled back before things could get too serious. He pouted adorably, and she laughed, swatting his arm.

"You're a hard-hearted lass," he said, "teasing a man with heaven and then snatching it from his grasp."

"Killian, as much as I enjoyed sleeping with you…and _trust me_, I did, we do have other needs."

"Can't think of any, love." And then his stomach growled.

Emma laughed again. "I think your stomach can. We were so wrapped up in each other last night we forgot to eat dinner."

"Ah, that's right," Killian said, snapping his fingers and getting to a seated position. "I knew there was something I was forgetting."

Emma threw back the covers, and prepared to get up and scrounge around in the cabinets, but Killian stopped her with a hand to her arm.

"Let me, love," he said getting to his feet and slipping on his trousers. "After a night like that, my wife deserves breakfast in bed."

"I could get used to this!" Emma said with a laugh.

Killian puttered around the tiny kitchen, started a fire, and began cooking something that smelled like porridge. Emma began picking at the ratty comforter. "You were satisfied then?" she asked slightly uncomfortably, "you know, with last night?"

He turned toward her and gave her a surprised look. "It was brilliant, amazing, incredible, bloody _perfect_."

She blushed. "Yeah, it was for me too," she said. "I just wasn't sure. I mean I'm sure you had your fair share of women during your pirate days, and I didn't know…"

He walked purposely over to her, set her bowl on the table beside the bed, leaned down and kissed her. "Swan, you're more potent than the finest rum, and I have many plans to stay perpetually inebriated with your love for the next fifty years or so."

She pulled him down onto the bed with her, and he laughed. "What about breakfast, love?"

She kissed him. Thoroughly. I think our time would be better spent taking care of a different hunger, first, don't you think?'

He grinned his pirate grin. "Oh, most definitely."

….

It was noon before Killian and Emma could tear themselves from their cottage.

"You're sure we can't while away a few more hours in bed, love?" Killian asked hopefully, guiding her from the cabin with a hand to her lower back.

Emma groaned. "Don't tempt me. But as incredible as that sounds, you know Regina's going to go all 'evil queen' on us if we don't return with reinforcements soon."

"Probably true," Killian admitted with a sigh. Moment of levity aside, Killian felt a swell of pity for Regina. If Emma lay near death, Henry had been kidnapped and he was helpless to aid them, he'd be frantic. "So what do you suggest for our strategy?"

"Strategy?" she asked, eyes widened with surprise. "You think we need a strategy? As grateful as Camelot was for our help last year…you know with the whole 'knight and lady of the prophecy' thing, I figure they'll be falling all over themselves to help us."

"Oh they'll wish to aid us, no doubt about that," Killian said, taking her hand as they walked forward, "but there is the problem of the Round Table."

"What do you mean?"

"Surely you haven't forgotten the conditions of Camelot's peace? The kingdom will remain impervious to outside forces as long as _all_ the Knights of the Round Table are united and remain in Camelot. Can we really ask them to put their own security in jeopardy for us?"

Emma grinned and tugged a small scroll from her pocket. "One step ahead of you, Jones. I had a talk with Gold yesterday before we left, and he gave me this protection spell that he promises I can cast."

"The Crocodile can do that?" he asked.

"Sure," she said with a shrug. "He's the one who gave them the enchanted Round Table in the first place. Why couldn't he craft another protection spell?"

"Are you telling me that the bloody Crocodile had a _protection spell_ up his sleeve the entire time, yet he let us risk our lives here in Camelot to defeat Morgana Le Fay?!"

"Not exactly," Emma said. "The protection spell isn't nearly that strong. Gold told me it will work as long as Camelot's at peace, there's no immediate threat, and the knights are still united in spirit and intention even if not in body."

The pair walked hand in hand over the last two miles of densely forested ground before Camelot's legendary castle came into view. Killian's mind flitted over his experiences at this castle. Some of them had been distinctly unpleasant. There was the time Morgana kidnapped him and held him in her healing/torture room. She really was the queen of multitasking! Then there was the time he and Emma had fought their way in to repair the Round Table and defeat Morgana. Finally, there was the fantastic feast Arthur had thrown in their honor after peace had been restored…a feast that was marred by news of the Wicked Witch's plans to execute Snow, Charming and Henry.

No. There'd never been a time Killian had entered Camelot's courts completely unmarred by danger or tragedy. He sincerely hoped their experiences today would break the streak.

"State your name and purpose!" the porter called from the turreted gate house.

"Killian and Emma Jones, the knight and lady of the prophecy. We wish to speak with King Arthur about a matter of utmost urgency."

"The lord and lady of prophecy?" the porter asked with widened eyes. "You've returned? Come in! Come in! I'll alert the castle. The king and queen will be most pleased to receive you!"

An excitedly chattering servant led Killian and Emma through the inner bailey and into the great hall, where the main meal was currently being served. No sooner had they crossed the threshold before a mighty knight got to his feet and rushed to their side.

He might be known as Sir Gawain to the rest of Camelot, but to Killian, he was simply "da."

With tears in his eyes, the knight threw his arms around Killian's shoulders, and held him so tightly he could barely breathe. "Killian, lad," the man said brokenly, "I thought to never see ye again! Praised be God!"

Killian returned his father's embrace, tears clogging his own throat. "Da!" was all he could say for long moments.

Eventually the men separated, and Gawain looked aside with obvious embarrassment at his emotional outburst. His eyes fell on Emma who was currently wrapped in the embrace of Sir Galahad, who, as a young child, she'd known as her foster father, Greg Smith.

Killian watched as a knowing twinkle entered his father's eye. "Killian, did the porter introduce you as 'Killian _and_ Emma Jones'?"

Killian couldn't contain the smile that spread over his handsome features. "That he did, Da. Emma Swan did me the great honor of becoming my wife yesterday!"

Gawain laughed, and slapped Killian on the back. "I knew it! I saw the way the two of you looked at each other when you were last in Camelot. Reminded me of nothing so much as your dear mother and I when we were courting."

"It took me a fair amount of time to win the lass's heart," Killian said, "but now that I have it, there is nothing I wouldn't do for her. I never want to be parted from her again!"

"I wish you long life and happiness, my lad," his father said, tearing up again. "There's nothing in all the world like the love of a good woman."

"Nay there is not," Killian agreed happily.

Sir Gawain and Sir Galahad took Killian and Emma personally to King Arthur and Queen Guinevere at the dais. The couple got hastily to their feet and hurried forward…Guinevere with distinctly more difficulty than her husband. Her large, very pregnant belly seemed to cause havoc with her equilibrium.

"The knight and lady of prophecy!" Arthur said delightedly. "You are most welcome at our board! Come! Join us at the head table."

Within moments, Killian and Emma were seated beside the king and queen, and a serving maid placed a trencher of food—chimaera, of course—before them.

"What brings you to our fair kingdom?" Guinevere asked, peering around Emma to look at Killian.

"We've a number of purposes, your majesty," Killian said formally. "Firstly, we wished to impart our news and we hope you'll share in our joy. My princess and I were joined in the bonds of matrimony not a day past."

The king and queen exclaimed with delight, and Killian looked on with affection and amusement as Queen Guinevere hugged Emma and then demanded to see her ring. It seemed women were the same regardless of what realm in which they resided.

"This calls for a celebration!" Arthur announced. "Bring the spiced mead! Call the minstrels! We'll hold a feast like Camelot has not seen in decades!"

Killian and Emma shared a smile, and then the lass spoke up. "It looks like we're not the only ones with something to celebrate. Guinevere, you look like you could give birth any moment!"

The queen laughed. "I've yet a month left, if it can be believed. The new castle healer believes I carry twins!"

"Congratulations!" Killian and Emma said together.

"It's a miracle!" Guinevere said rapturously. "All that time Arthur and I tried for a baby and nothing happened. I was beginning to give up hope. I thought I was cursed with infertility."

"Well," Emma said with a grimace, "you were, in a way."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked.

"Just before defeating Morgana," Killian explained, "we learned that that bloody witch had been giving you potions to insure you never conceived."

"What!?" Arthur shouted. "That psychotic, vindictive shrew!"

"Indeed," Killian agreed with a decisive nod. "The world is a far better place with her no longer in it."

"Without doubt," Guinevere agreed.

The couples ate for several moments in silence, and then King Arthur turned back toward Killian. "You said there were a couple of reasons you came to our fair kingdom. What, pray, might the other be?"

Emma explained their mission in a few, concise words. "And so you see, your majesties, we're desperately in need of your help."

"We've yet to determine even the identity of the blackguard who is targeting us," Killian put in grimly, "but we know he is quite formidable. Until we've determined a viable way forward, we wish to assemble as many allies as we can."

"Our kingdom is at your disposal, as always," King Arthur said with a bow. "After the service you rendered us, our debt can never be repaid. If it is within my power, I shall grant your request."

"Well, your majesty," Emma said, "we were hoping you could spare a few of your knights to help us in our fight. I have here a spell from Merlin himself that will make sure your kingdom is protected while they're gone."

"It shall be done!" Arthur asserted. "If it pleases you, I shall send Sir Lancelot, Sir Galahad and Sir Gawain. My most valiant of knights should suit your purpose, I believe."

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" Killian said with a smile. "You've no idea how much it will mean to my lady wife and I to have our fathers fighting by our sides!"

The feast continued long into the night. The food and the spirits flowed with an abundance Killian had rarely seen. He enjoyed himself immensely. It would have been more than worth it for his lovely wife's joy and laughter alone. She'd had so much pain and heartbreak in her life; he relished the ability to give her happiness.

In due time, the celebration wound down, and Killian and Emma were shown to a luxurious bedchamber. No sooner had the door closed behind them than Killian had his wife pressed up against its wooden surface, kissing and caressing her with as much passion as would a man who'd been apart from his wife for a year.

Emma gasped in surprise, and then joined him wholeheartedly. Finally, she pulled away, breathing hard. She threw him a teasing grin as he moved toward the large, soft bed. "Killian, you're insatiable!"

He grinned back and patted the comforter. "Aye, love, but then again, it's been a good eight hours since I last had you. Come here and let me love you."

"If you insist, pirate," she said with a long-suffering sigh. By the alacrity with which the lass came to him and fell into his arms, Killian knew her sigh was all for show. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her, and Killian thought his heart would burst with the very wonder of it.

_Notes:_

_-So, Ursula comes up with a plan to trap Ariel, and Killian and Emma both secure the knights' help and continue their mini honeymoon._

_-Up next: Long long ago in the Enchanted Forest, we catch up with Blackbeard's sister, Anne. She's been living a rather Jane-Austin-novel-like life with Hornigold's rich but almost unbearably straight-laced sister. Miss Hornigold has begun the painstaking process of finding Anne a suitable husband, but Anne wants nothing to do with it. She's got quite the adventurous spirit and wants a bit more excitement in her life. Back in the present day section, we meet back up with the gang in the Enchanted Forest. They make their way to the castle to see just who's ruling in the Enchanted Forest these days…and whether they are friends or foes. Meanwhile, Regina continues to care for Robin who's yet to come out of his coma._


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_Enchanted Forest around 30 years ago_

Anne Teach sat primly on the dreadfully uncomfortable chair, her back ramrod straight. Of course how could any woman's back be anything _but_ ramrod straight, trussed up as they were required to be in corsets? Oh what it would be like to wear comfortable clothing that allowed the lady in question to breathe!

Anne sipped daintily at her tea as Miss Hornigold had instructed her. Ladies were to be prim, proper and gracious at all times—even at times like this when they were bored nearly to tears.

"Do you not agree, Miss Teach?"

Anne looked guiltily at the officious bore who'd been invited to take tea with her and Miss Hornigold. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Collins," she said daintily patting her lips with her napkin. "I seem to have missed your last statement." _And everything else you've said to the best of my ability_.

She caught Miss Hornigold's eye and cringed at the look of disapproval plain to be seen on her patroness's face. She sighed to herself. She'd be in for a lecture later on, no mistake about that! She'd get another earful about the proper way to receive gentlemen callers.

"I was merely commenting on the loveliness of the weather, Miss Teach," Mr. Collins said. Anne could hear the slight annoyance in his tone. He was shocked, no doubt, that anyone would be impertinent enough to wool-gather when he was speaking. This one ws about as pompous as they come!

"Indeed, Mr. Collins," Anne said in a calm, gracious voice, "we've not enjoyed such beautiful weather since last summer."

It would be quite a shame to waste the lovely weather," Miss Hornigold said with a smile, her thick spectacles magnifying her eyes. "If it would please you, I would be pleased to allow you the use of my carriage. You and Miss Teach could take a drive."

Anne whipped her neck toward her benefactress, eyes widened in shock. She wanted Anne to go out on an outing with a young man? Unchaperoned? This could only mean one thing. Miss Hornigold expected Mr. Collins to declare himself…to make her an offer of marriage. She inwardly groaned again. Could she even _survive_ marriage to such a pompous bore?

Mr. Collins's eyes lit up. "There's nothing I would like more than an afternoon in Miss Teach's company, but I'm afraid I must decline. I have a pressing engagement with a client and then I must go out of town for the remainder of the week. If it would please Miss Teach, I would be more than pleased to take her on that drive a week from now."

Anne knew there was nothing for it. Miss Hornigold would never let her hear the end of it if she discouraged Mr. Collins. "I would be honored, Mr. Collins," she said with a small bow.

He looked as though Christmas had come early. He got to his feet, took her hand and bowed over it until his hot lips connected with her hand. It took all Anne's training to refrain from recoiling in disgust.

"Ladies," Mr. Collins said, bowing in turn to both Miss Hornigold and Anne, "until next week."

With that, a servant showed Mr. Collins out, and Anne breathed a sigh of relief.

"Miss Teach, really!" Miss Hornigold said with a tsk of disapproval. "What is the meaning of such an unladylike sound?"

"Miss Hornigold," Anne pleaded, "Mr. Collins? The man is ridiculous!"

"Nonsense, child," Miss Hornigold said, "He's a perfectly respectable man, a lawyer, with a good income. I can provide you with a comfortable home."

_But what good would that do her when she died of boredom_.

"But ma'am," Anne protested, "I don't love him!"

"Love! Miss Hornigold said with a tut. "What's love got to do with marriage? A good match is more important than love. Besides, you've already sent three suitors packing this month. If Mr. Collins makes you an offer, you'd best take it."

Anne wanted to roll her eyes. Ever since she'd celebrated her eighteenth birthday two months ago, Miss Hornigold had thrown what felt like every eligible bachelor within a one hundred mile radius at her. Intrigured by the money Anne stood to inherit from her wealthy benefactress—as well as by her brother's rapidly increasing wealth—the suitors were never told precisely how Edward Teach amassed his wealth—men had been tripping over each other for the honor of courting her.

Miss Hornigold softened. "Now child, you know I only have your bet interest at herat."

"I know," Anne said with a sigh—small and ladylike this time, "but I can't bear the thought of such a confined life. I long for danger and adventure—like my brother has."

Miss Hornigold pursed her lips in annoyance. "Now we'll have no more talk of piracy, young lady. I thought you'd outgrown all that!"

"I have," Anne said miserably, remembering her youth. Where other little girls liked to play house, she liked to play pirate.

"That's a good girl," Miss Hornigold said with a pat to Anne's knee. "As it turns out, I have something that I think will put a smile on your face."

She reached into her reticule and pulled out an envelope. Anne took it and squealed. "A letter! It's from Edward!"

Anne pulled the single sheet from its envelope and perused it, her smile widening as she read.

"He's coming for a visit and he says he has good news!

….

Anne paced the entryway waiting. Edward was due in today! Given her choice, she would be down at the docks waiting for Edward's ship to make berth. Unfortunately, Anne feared Miss Hornigold would truly keel over with apoplexy if she even suggested it. Oh! This waiting was killing her!

It wasn't just the waiting that had the butterflies dancing in her stomach. It was the nerves. She'd come to a decision in the two days since Mr. Collins's visit. Now, all that remained was to get Edward's consent.

Finally, at long last, she heard the sound of the doorbell. He was back! Though it was far from the refined thing to do, she raced through the entryway, overtook the doorman, and opened the door herself.

There he was! This man who was her brother. He'd changed in the two years since she'd last seen him. He had a harder look about him, he was more weather-beaten, and the bushy black beard he wore made him look positively dangerous. She felt a sudden shyness, as though she didn't know this pirate at all.

And then Edward smiled and said "Annie-girl?" in the way he always used to, and she surged into his arms.

"Oh Edward!" she said with a laugh, "it's been so long! I've missed you so much!"

He hugged her and then held her out at arm's length. "Look at you, little sister! Where's the skinny little half-grown filly I left behind two years ago?"

She chucked him playfully on the arm "I grew up. So what's this exciting news you were talking about."

He shook his head. "Never one for small talk, were you, pet?"

"Come on, Edward!" she wheedled, tugging at his arm and pulling him toward the sitting room. "You sounded so excited in your letter! I'm dying to hear your news!"

"Alright, alright," he said with a smile, obligingly taking the seat she indicated. "Captain Hornigold's decided to retire and he's named me the new captain of his vessel!"

That was _wonderful_. It was better news than Anne could ever have hoped for. As captain, Edward would have even more ability to grant her request! She jumped from her seat, rushed forward and threw her arms around him. "Congratulations! Just think! Captain Teach!"

He chuckled. "Captain Blackbeard, actually. Hornigold convinced me to take a more colorful moniker."

She studied him. "Aye," she said at last, "Blackbeard suits you. So dangerous and frightening!"

He laughed again. "I hope so."

A knock came at the door, and a middle-aged maid in a mobcap came in. "Mistress ordered a tea service, Miss. For you and your guest."

"Thank you," Anne said, jumping up to take the loaded tray from the other woman. "That will be all."

Several minutes were taken pouring, fixing and serving the tgea, finger sandwiches and pastries. After they both had eaten, Edward spoke again.

"I hear you have some rather exciting news yourself, little sister."

Anne squinted her eyes in confusion. What news did she have to share?

"Hornigold's sister tells me that you expect a proposal of marriage any day from a certain Mr. Collins."

Anne felt as though the walls were closing in on her. She couldn't marry Mr. Collins; she simply _couldn't_

"I take it from your expression you're less than enthusiastic about the match?"

"Oh Edward! I can't marry that man. He's positively dreadful!"

Edward gave her a speculative look for long moments. "Miss Hornigold assures me he's an excellent match. She said he's a good man of sound character and that he can provide you all the luxury you might want."

Tears of frustration filled Anne's eyes. "But he's utterly ridiculous! If I marry him, I'll slowly suffocate, die of confinement. Besides…"

"Aye?" Edward asked, leaning forward, "Besides _what, _Annie-girl?"

There was no time like the present. Either she asked him now or she'd never work up the courage to do so. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Aye, what might that be?"

"Take me with you!" she pleaded. She saw the 'no' in his eyes, so she hastily continued. "Please! Hear me out. I'm a hard worker and I'm smart. I can learn to do any of the tasks your men do. I'm not cut out for the tedious, sedentary life I lead here. I'm made for action and adventure, just like you! I feel the very spirit draining out of me day by day."

Edward looked sorrowful and slowly shook his head. Anne's spirits plummeted. This had been one of her last hopes.

"Anne," he said gently, "you know I can't agree to that. A pirate ship is no place for a lass. I've no doubt you could work as hard as any of my crew, but that is beside the point. My men are a rough lot. On board my ship you'd be subjected to the worst coarseness, crass treatment, the kind of thing no innocent young woman should be subjected to."

"But Edward…"

"No, Anne," he said firmly. "You are in my charge, and this is a point on which I simply will not yield."

The utter devastation must have been plain to see on Anne's face, because Edward softened. "All is not lost, Anne. You need not marry Mr. Collin's if you find the possibility so loathesome. I'll speak to Hornigold's sister. You need marry no one unless you choose to do so."

Well, that was some comfort, she supposed. Anne forced herself to put her sorrow and disappointment aside. She wouldn't mar Edward's short visit with moping. Once he'd taken his leave, there would be plenty of time to plan her next move. Because Edward or no Edward, she planned to have her share of adventures before she was forced into the prison known as holy matrimony.

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

Regina leaned over and brushed Robin's fair hair off his forehead. He was hot to the touch. Frowning, she leaned forward even more and touched her lips to his head. Definitely hot; burning up in fact.

She looked him over carefully, checking each of his wounds. The facial lacerations looked like they were healing nicely as did the wounds on his chest and abdomen. Finally she lifted the bandage from a large, deep cut on his left forearm and gasped. It was an angry red and swollen. She was no doctor, but she would swear the wound was infected.

Reaching for the rag in the basin of water, she thoroughly cleaned the wound and wrapped it with a new bandage. Throughout the whole process, which was no doubt quite painful, Robin didn't so much as twitch.

Regina threw the now-soiled rag back into its basin and began pacing. He was growing worse. He needed a real doctor, not merely a friar who was skilled with healing plants! He needed a hospital and modern medicine.

Regina swatted at a gnat that buzzed around her sweaty head. He needed a room that wasn't a blazing inferno in the summer. A room that was clean and free of insects. This cabin might have been nice and cozy in the winter when she was last here, but the summer was a far different story!

Never had Regina wanted to get back to the Land Without Magic more. She briefly considered a curse. Maybe she could get her hands on another one of those. She could sweep herself and Robin and the rest of the fools she'd come her with back to Storybrooke and the villain who caused all the havoc could just have at it.

Regina dropped into the straight backed chair at Robin's side, and blew out a deep sigh. She reached for a clean rag, dipped it in the tepid water, and smoothed it over Robin's over-heated brow. It wouldn't work. For one thing, in order to cast the curse, she'd need to sacrifice the one she loved the most, Robin, and that would kind of defeat the purpose. For another, Roland was still missing.

Where was he? Was he being well-treated? Rage coursed through her at the thought of anyone mistreating her little boy. They would pay. Oh, yes, they would pay beyond their deepest fears!

Slowly the anger drained, and the helplessness took over. She hated being powerless like this. Waiting, not knowing, imagining the worst. And really, what good would revenge do? It wouldn't spare Robin's little lad any of the fear or abuse he was suffering now. No, she'd give up any thought of retribution or vengeance if only she could get Roland back safe and sound—and if only Robin would recover.

Perhaps her magic could help? She'd trafficked almost exclusively in dark-magic ever since the first curse, but since she'd had Henry, since she'd fallen in love with Robin, the light magic had come more and more easily. Could she relieve some of Robin's suffering with magic.

Regina closed her eyes, extended her hands and focused her energy on the man lying before her. She let her love for him overwhelm her. It was a strange sensation, this light magic bubbling up. She'd become so accustomed to taping into her anger and hate to produce magic, that this was a distinctly foreign and awkward experience.

But it was working. She could tell by the feelings—like a warm, soothing rush of water was flowing out of her hands—that _something_ was coming of her efforts. She opened her eyes to see bright, white light coming from her fingertips and connecting with the wounds on Robin's face. One, still raw and bloody scabbed over.

Regina focused her energy on the infected wound on Robin's arm. She kept the focus of magic flowing for as long as she could sustain it, until her hands dropped and she closed her eyes, utterly spent with the effort it had taken to produce the magic. Opening her eyes, she looked once more at the wound. Not much change. Perhaps a small fraction of the swelling had subsided. It was hard to tell.

Tears filled Regina's eyes, and with no one around to see them, she allowed them to escape their banks and flow unchecked down her cheeks. Maybe if Emma were here, her magic would have been more effective, but she wasn't. She and her husband had left several hours ago, and it was anyone's guess when they would return.

_I hope they're enjoying their idyllic little time together_, Regina thought with a sneer. That wasn't fair, and she knew it. No doubt Emma and Hook were enjoying their time alone together, but they hadn't abandoned her. They'd gone off to find help.

She just hoped it wouldn't come too late for her true love and his son.

"Please Robin," she whispered, lying beside him and wrapping him in an embrace. "Please fight. I can't lose you. If you die the best part of me, the part that wants to put aside evil and hatred, will die with you. If you die, might as well die too."

….

"So, Little John, what do you suggest?" Charming asked, peering intently at the larger man. Killian and Emma had left late that morning, and it would likely be another day or two before they would return with Camelot reinforcements.

"We find out who's living in the palace."

"You don't know?"

Little John shook his shaggy head. "No. The palace was empty for months after you left, then suddenly, about a week ago our scouts began to see signs of habitation."

"Do you think whoever's there had anything to do with the men who attacked you?" Snow asked.

Little John shrugged. "I just don't know. Normally some of our company would have scouted out the situation, but with the attack, we've not had the opportunity."

"It seems to me," Rumplestiltskin said, "that finding out who thinks they're in charge is our first course of action."

"Agreed," Charming said with a nod. "So as soon as we can manage it, we'll go. Little John, gather a small group of your finest, and they can join Rumplestiltskin and me."

"I'm coming too," Snow White insisted, a glint of challenge in her eye. "My bow will be useful to you if we encounter enemies rather than friends."

Charming shook his head. "I need you to stay here."

Snow frowned and crossed her arms, looking as determined as she always did when she got an idea into her head. "And just why should I stay here?"

Charming sighed in frustration. "Snow, think! think! You're more than six months pregnant! It's not just you or me we have to think of now, it's that little boy."

Snow dropped her eyes and picked at a loose thread on her maternity blouse. "I would be careful. I wouldn't take unnecessary risks."

Charming threw up his hands and rolled his eyes. "The whole _adventure_ would be an unnecessary risk. Please! For once just listen to me."

Friar Tuck piped up, and Charming didn't think he'd ever been so grateful to someone for jumping into a conversation. "Your husband is right, your majesty. As a healer, I must insist you refrain from such a dangerous mission. In your delicate condition, it would be most inadvisable."

Snow visibly wilted. so grateful to someone for jumping into a conversation. "Your husband is right, your majesty. As a healer, I must insist you refrain from such a dangerous mission. In your delicate condition, it would be most inadvisable."

Snow visibly wilted, and then she turned pleading eyes toward Charming. The expression in their brown depths tore at him. "Charming, I'll go crazy just waiting here," she said, her voice breaking. "Last time there was an unknown person in our castle, it was the Wicked Witch of the West, and she nearly killed us!"

Charming took her in his arms and held her. "We don't know what we'll be encountering there," he said. "Could be a friend. Besides, I'll be going with Gold and the merry men and Regina, if we can talk her into it. I promise we won't take unnecessary risks. We won't confront anyone, just do some surveillance, find out who's there."

Little John stepped forward. "Your majesty," he said, addressing Snow White, "I swear to personally guard your husband's back. He will come back to you, on my word."

Snow visibly pulled herself together and then stepped back out of Charming's arms. She nodded. "Okay. Well, no use dragging this out any longer. Let's go talk to Regina."

….

"You want me to do _what_?" Regina sputtered.

"Come with us to determine just what miscreant has invaded your castle, Dearie," Gold said with his accustomed sneer.

"Let me get this straight," Regina said, getting to her feet. "You all want me to leave the man I love. The man who's so badly injured he might even…." she pulled in a deep breath leaving the sentence unfinished. "You want me to do this just so that I can babysit you while you pretend to be spies?"

"Regina, you know who was there last year," Charming argued. "You really want to be caught unprepared again? You really want to drag this whole thing out, or do you want to get to the bottom of what happened to Robin and Roland as soon as possible?"

"You know the answer to that!" Regina said, her eyes flashing, "but why do you need me? You've got plenty of people for a surveillance mission."

"Think, Dearie!" Gold answered. "The more magical of a presence we hold, the better our chances if we do come upon any enemies."

"Besides," Charming argued, "you know that castle inside and out. You can get us inside without detection."

Regina knew they were right, but the thought of leaving Robin tore at her. She dropped her eyes, and then let her gaze connect with Charming's. "You understand true love. What would you do if Snow were lying in that bed near to death? What would you do if someone asked you to go off and leave her unprotected?"

Charming drew in a long, ragged breath. "It would kill me to leave Snow in that state, but I would want to find her attacker, bring him to justice and make sure he never hurt another soul like that again."

Of course the prince would go to the noble motive. "Bring him to justice"? Ha! At the moment she couldn't care less if justice was served so long as she had a chance to tear the s.o.b. who did this limb from limb—with her bare hands—and then roast him with her magical fireballs for good measure.

Belle stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on Regina's shoulder. "And as for Robin, don't worry. I'll sit with him the entire time you're gone. I'll do everything in my power to keep him comfortable."

Snow stepped forward as well. "And I'll help her. Since my husband insists I keep my pregnant self out of the line of fire, I won't have anything else to do while you're gone."

Regina felt a swell of affection for this group of people. She nodded, kissed her fingertips, and placed them firmly against Robin's over-warm lips. "I'll be back as soon as I can," she whispered to his inert form.

….

Regina peered through the nursery door, looking from side to side along the deserted corridor. Seeing no danger, she stepped out and beckoned the others to join her. As they almost noiselessly did so, Regina couldn't help but remember finding herself in a very similar situation only a year and some months ago.

A bitter-sweet pain stabbed through her at the recollection. That time, it had been Robin with her as she broke into her castle, not this ragtag group of sorcerers and princes and thieves. Though that mission had been largely unsuccessful, it had brought Regina and Robin together. It had resulted in their first kiss. It had been as a result of that near-disastrous day that she, Robin and Roland had been forced to live in hiding at Friar Tuck's cottage. In retrospect agreeing to that mission—and agreeing to let Robin come with her—had been one of the best decisions of her life.

"Now what?" Charming whispered.

"Now we don't get caught," Regina whispered snidely.

"That might be easier said than done, your majesty," Mulan said looking intently back and forth from one side of the corridor to the other. Regina followed her gaze. Dozens of guards dressed as her black knights used to poured toward them from both directions.

_Wonderful._

Regina heard her companions drawing their weapons of choice and she conjured fireballs in both hands. Targeting the closest man, she threw her weapons. The man in question raised a strange, silver shield, and the fireball disintegrated in thin air. _What the hell?_

She tried again. The same result. From the soft curses coming from her companions, it would seem they were having no better success—even Rumplestiltskin. What kind of enchantment did their shields carry if even the Dark One couldn't penetrate them?

Within moments, the entire group—her, Charming, Rumple, Mulan, Little John and Alan-a-Dale were effectively disarmed. The leader of the guards stepped forward and rested his sword against her neck. _Crap_.

"State your name and purpose," the man demanded in a hard voice.

Oh no! This was _not _going to happen! Not again! She'd be damned before she just rolled over and allowed _another_ villain to take over her castle. The Wicked Witch was more than enough, thank you very much.

Regina reached up and pushed the man's sword away. She took a menacing step forward, and the guard, seeming to be nonplussed, took a step back.

"No," Regina said nastily, "you and your employer are the trespassers. You'll tell us who _you _are and who employs you."

The guard quickly got over his shock. His sword tip returned to her throat. Out of the corner of her eye, Regina saw all of her companions in the same predicament.

"It seems to me that you are in no position to make demands," the guard growled. "As for our employers, you will determine their identity soon enough. You and your companions will follow me. Now!"

He barked out the last word so forcefully, Regina jumped in spite of herself.

Disarmed, unable to use magic, it seemed there was nothing for them but to obey. Regina marched forward in the direction her guard indicated, her head held high. No one, _no one_ would get the satisfaction of seeing her dragged to them cowering!

The guards led their group down the west flight of stairs directly into the great hall. Regina saw the couple saw the couple on the dais as soon as she entered the huge room, and nearly sagged with relief. Philip and Aurora. Her castle was currently occupied by Philip and Aurora. Finally they'd gotten a break. They were among friends.

_Notes_

_-I was definitely going for a Jane Austen (whose works I love) vibe with the 30 years ago section. In fact, "Mr. Collins's" name was taken directly from my favorite of her novels. Anne is certainly not content in the stifling world in which she lives, but how far will she go to escape it? Will Edward's insistence that she can marry who she wants be enough to satisfy her?_

_-In the current day section, they've discovered that Philip and Aurora are the current residents of the castle. At least they're friends rather than enemies, this time._

_-Up next: Around a year before the 1__st__ curse, Ursula attempts to put her plan to ensnare Ariel into effect. Unfortunately for her, someone else beats her to the punch. She is not amused. In the current day section, Regina and company discuss the situation with Philip and Aurora and get their support, and the gang moves from Friar Tuck's cottage to the castle. Robin seems to be, if anything, worse, and Regina's getting desperate. Snow White has a suggestion worthy of a fairy tale, but will it work?_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

_Enchanted Forest, about a year before the 1__st__ curse_

Regina narrowed her eyes as she looked at the guard standing before her. He was nervous. Though the black mask obscured his facial features, she could tell in the way he moved, the way his hands quivered, the slight shake in his voice.

"What do you mean you had Snow White in your sights?" She asked calmly. Deceptively calmly. "If you had her in your sights, why isn't she standing before me as we speak?"

"Sh..she escaped, My Queen," the man said hesitantly.

Regina swept her long, black train out of her way and sat regally on her throne. "How many men did you have with you, Bruce?" Her voice was nearly gentle—a fact that seemed to unnerve the guard before her more than if she'd shouted. Smart man.

"We had her trapped, Majesty," Bruce said, a pleading note entering his voice. "She was trapped on a cliff; there was nowhere she could go!"

Regina leaned forward intently. "And yet you failed to capture her. Explain to me _exactly_ how that could have happened!"

Bruce's knees actually knocked against each other. "She jumped, Majesty. There was nowhere she could go, but she jumped."

Regina glared. "She jumped off a cliff yet you're not carting her bloody dead body to me. How does that happen?"

"She jumped into the ocean."

Regina got to her feet and began pacing fretfully. How the _hell_ did this girl elude her time and time again? She was little more than a child! A spoiled brat of a princess! She shouldn't have survived _two days_ out there on her own. Yet here Regina stood, nearly two years later, and she was no nearer capturing her prey than on the day that miserable huntsman failed to retrieve her heart!

She wanted to destroy something. Her eyes fell on Bruce. He would pay for his failure! Oh yes, he would pay. She advanced on him, hand outstretched toward his chest. The man quailed before her.

"But I have useful information for you as well, Majesty!" he squeaked in a voice that had suddenly raised two octaves.

Regina stopped, hand still held before her. "Really?" she asked, her head canted to the side. "If that's true, I might just let you keep your worthless life for another day."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Bruce said, bowing. "I've no doubt you will find this knowledge infinitely useful."

She waited a beat and then another. "Well?" she shouted. Bruce jumped.

"The princess fell to the water, and was under for long minutes. It looked as though she would drown, but she was rescued."

"Rescued? By whom?" The imbecilic that had done this would pay. Dearly.

"By a mermaid, Majesty."

"A mermaid? At the surface?"

"Indeed. I believe she gave her name as Ariel. It seems she's fallen in love with a human man. One Prince Erik of a nearby maritime kingdom."

Regina's patience was running thin. What did she care about the love life of a fish?

"After rescuing the princess," Bruce continued quickly, "the pair talked for some moments. It seems Snow White encouraged this Ariel to fight for true love. Ariel mentioned a legend about the sea witch, Ursula. It seems she believes the sea witch grants a wish to one mermaid every ten years. Ariel wishes for legs so as to be able to attend a certain ball this Prince Erik is holding. Snow White has promised to find Ariel a dress and attend the function with her if she is successful in obtaining Ursula's favor."

Regina's eyes wandered to her large bronze bas-relief depicting the sea witch. She'd heard of Ursula, of course. Who hadn't? But unless Regina was completely mistaken, Ursula was no more than a myth, a legend, a story merpeople told each other to explain the unexplainable.

But mythical or not, maybe this silly little mermaid's belief could be used for Regina's purposes. Just because Ursula was legendary didn't mean Ariel couldn't meet her. Regina fingered a leather bracelet on her wrist as an idea began to take shape. Yes, it was time to employ a little magic—and a little disguise.

"You've done well, Bruce," Regina said finally. "I won't kill you yet, but fail me again and you'll wish you'd never been born!"

_Waters off the Enchanted Forest, about a year before the 1__st__ curse _

Flotsam swam lazily through the murky waters just outside the boundaries of King Triton's kingdom, Jetsam at his side.

"Anything interesting?" Jetsam asked

Flotsam shook his head side to side. "Not so much as a guppy that would interest the old crab."

Flotsam thought about his employer with no small amount of contempt. She was vulgar and coarse and far too full of herself for her own good. But Flotsam knew what was in his self-interest, and he planned to pursue it no matter whose tentacles he had to kiss.

Ursula had power, wealth and far too much laziness to pursue her own ends. Neither Flotsam nor Jetsam was averse to doing the work necessary to get Ursula what or who she wanted, not when it resulted in the kinds of wealth and luxury the witch was willing to shower on them in gratitude.

Flotsam spotted a flowing mane of red hair out of the corner of his yellow eye, and snapped his head in its direction. Ariel! Swimming outside her kingdom's protective borders. _Jackpot!_

Flotsam nudged Jetsam with his fin and then nodded toward the feisty little mermaid. Jetsam displayed his usual awful grimace of a smile. "Should we approach her right away?"

He shook his head. "She's far too close to the borders. We could be spotted, and then our mission would be compromised, maybe for a long time to come."

Jetsam merely nodded, as Flotsam knew he would. His twin could always be counted on to listen to and follow his direction. It was the benefit of being the one who'd hatched first, the benefit of being the one with the far superior intellect.

"Let's follow her," Flotsam said. "See where she's going, what she's doing. Might be we can learn something to our advantage."

It was a strategy that had benefited the eels more than once. It was rather amazing what one could discover by simply swimming in the shadows and listening. Merpeople were far too open for their own good.

Ariel looked cautiously from side to side, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. Finally, she nodded decisively and began swimming toward the surface. Hoping to catch a glance of her human prince, no doubt.

The mermaid swam quickly, gaining the surface in mere moments, her head broke the surface, and she impatiently shoved the matted hair from her face. She looked nervous—maybe even scared—but her face showed more determination than Flotsam had seen from anyone in years.

"Ursula!" Ariel called in a commanding voice. "Ursula, I know you're real; I know you're near. Come to me; I need your help."

Elation shot through Flotsam's entire system. This was proving to be one of the simplest tasks Ursula had ever sent them on.

"Come Jetsam," he said, "let's go alert her largeness that she's being summoned."

And then Ursula was there, rising regally out of the water…but it _wasn't _Ursula. No, this woman with an octopus body was an excellent imitation—but she was far too beautiful, far too thin. _What under the sea_?

Flotsam listened as the imposter spoke to the mermaid, watched as she gave Ariel some kind of bracelet, gasped as Ariel placed it on her wrist and _walked_ from the sea on two legs. Ursula was not going to be pleased about this!

….

Ursula was not pleased at all. She was going to wipe the smug looks off of those slimy eel faces!

"You had one job!" she thundered, "_One job!_"

Grabbing a shot glass, she poured herself a stiff drink, downed it, and promptly poured another. She'd spent the better part of last week planning for this, scheming for this, sacrificing her well-earned sleep for this. And for what? For her useless lumps of servants to let it slip through her fingers!

"All you had to do was find her when she was alone and bring her to me!"

"Well, Your Pudginess," Flotsam said, "finding her alone proved to be more easily said than done. Ever since she's begun speaking of this human of hers, King Triton has had his crab lackey more or less tied to her tail. It wasn't until today that she was finally able to shake him."

"A crab?" Ursula shrieked, throwing her shot glass against the wall and shattering it into a million pieces. "You two morons were shown up by a _crab_!"

"In our defense," Jetsam began.

"He had the full weight of Triton's authority behind him," Flotsam finished.

Ursula swam back and forth, effectively pacing the length of her opulent dining room.

"So it wasn't til today that she was alone," Ursula said, giving the pair the stink eye. "Why didn't you pounce on her today?"

"Too close to the kingdom," Flotsam said.

"And then she was at the surface and 'Ursula' was there," Jetsam continued.

Ursula swore so long and profanely that a sailor would have blushed. Those two sons-of-fishes just idled there, slightly mocking smiles on their ugly faces. Oh, so help her, she was going to turn them into sushi!

Was it too much to ask that she get a break once in a while? Just one little teeny-tiny break? What had she ever done to anyone to deserve this grief? Her glance flitted out the window and onto her garden. Okay, maybe that wasn't the best question to ask.

"Who is she? This witch who impersonated me? What was she after?"

Somehow Flotsam managed to shrug. How did one do that when he didn't have shoulders?

"How should we know Your Portliness?" Jetsam asked. "She said she was Ursula."

Ursula shot a stream of magic at the loathsome creature—only it was barely strong enough to ruffle his scales, and for the first time that day, the anger transitioned over to fear. Her magic was draining and it was draining fast. At this rate she'd be no more spectacular than the average octopus within the decade!

_Think!_ She had to think. There had to be _something_ she could do. One thing was for sure. She would find the wretch who _dared _to imitate her, and that person would rue the day she crossed Ursula!

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you," Charming said, reaching for his goblet of wine.

"Likewise," Philip answered raising his own goblet and raising it to the table in general. "When the guards informed me that a group—a group that contained those skilled in magic—had broken into the castle, I feared the worst."

"No doubt," Charming agreed genially. "Given recent history with the wicked witch and Morgana, a little caution is certainly in order."

"We are certainly at your disposal," Aurora said, looking up from her task of spooning stew into her one-year-old daughter's mouth. "This is your castle, your kingdom, and we have no wish to be interlopers."

"Just how is it you came to occupy this castle, dearies?" Rumple asked.

Philip shrugged. "Ever since your party returned to the Land Without Magic six months ago, the castle's been unoccupied; there's been no official ruler of this kingdom. With reports of more and more people settling in the Enchanted Forest, it seemed prudent to visit, make provisions for a ruler of sorts to be found."

"Wise idea," Charming agreed.

Charming took a bite of his stew, enjoying the savory, slightly spicy flavor. He was more relieved than he could say that they'd found allies rather than enemies in the castle. It was bad enough they were looking for a kidnapping band of pirates; they certainly didn't need a new super-villain intent on taking over as well.

Philip glanced around the large table in the dining chamber, surprise and something else…confusion?...in his eyes. "I must say, I understand why the queen, the prince and even the Dark One found it prudent to come to the castle and determine its occupants, but I confess to being puzzled by the appearance of outlaws."

"It turns out," Regina said, breaking her silence for the first time since they'd sat down to dinner, "it's because of the outlaws that we're here in the first place. Their group was attacked about three days ago and…and Robin Hood was severely injured and his little boy kidnapped."

Charming shot Snow's stepmother a sympathetic look, feeling for her. The pain and anxiety was more than obvious when she spoke of those she loved being in danger.

"Three days past?" Aurora said with obvious surprise. "There was an outbreak of violence in the Enchanted Forest a mere three days past, and we didn't know about it? How is that possible? If we'd known, we'd certainly have provided soldiers to assist you."

Little John shrugged. "They attacked at night, and it was all over within the hour. A band of marauding pirates, it seems."

"Pirates attacking a village of outlaws? On land?" Philip asked, his eyes widening. "I've never heard of such a thing."

Regina made a strangled sound and a small, imploring gesture with her left hand. "It's my fault," she said in a tight voice. "They wanted to get to me, so they harmed two of the people I love most in the world."

"No," Charming said firmly. "Whatever you've done in the past, you are not responsible for what these _miscreants_ did. You have a problem with someone? You confront that person; you don't kidnap an innocent child, try to kill an innocent man to harm them. That's nothing but base cowardice, and I won't stand for you blaming yourself for it, Regina."

The queen looked up at him, surprise and pleasure in her brown eyes. "Thank you, Charming. I appreciate that…especially given all our history."

"History," Rumple said under his breath, "that's a diplomatic way to put it."

Charming shrugged. "You're welcome. You've changed Regina; we're allies now as well as family. You do know Snow and I will do everything in our power to save your true love and his son, don't you?"

She dropped her eyes. "Yeah, I guess I do know that. Thank you; it means a lot to me."

"The question," Mulan asked, "is just what _are_ we going to do to save them and defeat their attacker?"

Philip got to his feet, a look of determination on his face. "What you're going to do first is retrieve the remainder of your party and take up residence here where you belong. Then we meet to discuss strategy." He placed a gentle hand on Aurora's arm. "My wife and I wish to do everything we can to assist you."

Charming stood and offered Philip his hand. "You have my gratitude."

…

Regina's stroked Robin's lifeless hand, grateful for the cool breeze flowing from the bedroom's window, for the soft, comfortable bed, for the servants and healers. In short, she was grateful to be back in the castle where Robin had his best shot at recovery.

Regina dipped the soft, white cloth into the basin of water on the nightstand, wrung it out, and gently laid it on Robin's forehead. His fever still hadn't broken, nor had he shown any signs of coming out of his coma. How long would she have to endure this agony? In her darker moments she wondered if the man she loved would ever awaken, or whether he would just slip from them step by step until he was finally gone forever.

The door opened and then closed softly. Regina turned her head and saw Snow stepping toward her, a sympathetic look in her eyes.

"How's he doing?" she asked, taking a seat in the straight-backed chair beside the bed.

Regina ran her fingers through the hair draping Robin's forehead, caressed his stubbled jaw. Finally she shrugged, looking over at her step-daughter. "About the same, I guess."

And then she crumbled, tears coming to her eyes. "The truth is…I don't think he's doing well. I sense he's slipping away from us."

Snow's hand came to rest on Regina's arm. "Don't give up. As long as there's life, there's hope. We've got the best healers in the realm tending to him. We may get a miracle yet!"

In the past, Snow White's optimism had often gotten on Regina's nerves, but not now. Now she was grateful for it; it almost gave her hope that things really would work out—that Robin would wake up and recover, that Roland would come back safe and sound. It gave her the strength to fight on. Regina smiled and nodded.

"So," Regina said, pulling her thoughts with difficulty from the issues that had been consuming her since her return to the Enchanted Forest, "how did the strategy meeting go?"

As soon as the Storybrook residents and the Merry Men were comfortably settled into the castle and a light supper had been consumed, Charming had suggested they all meet in the war room and discuss their way forward. Regina, reluctant to spend any more time away from Robin, had declined feeling slightly guilty. She should have been involved in the strategizing, she knew she should have, but the thought of Robin suffering alone tore at her.

Snow White shrugged. "You didn't miss much, really. Philip and Aurora don't have any better idea who's behind this than any of us."

"It doesn't make any sense," Regina said reflectively. "Why kidnap a little boy and then go completely silent? Shouldn't someone be making ransom demands—or, I don't know, demands I surrender to them or something?"

"It _is_ weird," Snow agreed. "We can't seem to make any sense of it at all. Maybe when Emma and Killian get back we'll know more. Maybe the people in Camelot have some new information."

"Yeah, maybe," Regina said, turning back toward Robin, turning over the cloth so that the cooler side lay against his skin. "So nothing new?"

"Well, Philip and Aurora offered their soldiers to help guard us and to help scout for information. That's something, I guess. Other than that, really all we can do is keep our eyes and ears open for more info on this guy—that, and wait for the kidnapper to contact us."

Regina nodded, despising the helpless feelings engulfing her. The last time she'd felt this powerless was the day her mother killed Daniel. Back then, she'd reacted by embracing darkness, ruthlessly amassing power, and adopting a single-minded determination to get revenge. This time—none of that was possible or even desirable, really. She was no longer the Evil Queen, she had turned her life around, and she had no desire to regress.

"I should have been with you," Regina said so softly Snow had to lean forward to catch her words. "Maybe I could have helped—contributed something. I just couldn't bear to be apart from him. Not when," she took a deep, ragged breath, "not when I can't be sure how much time I have left with him."

Snow sat on the bed beside her and gave her a hug. "It's okay, Regina," she said. "There'll be plenty of time to strategize. Besides, we all get it. We all know what it's like when your true love is in danger."

And then Snow gasped. "Your true love," she said, eyes wide. "Robin is your true love!"

"Well, yeah, I've no doubt he's my true love," Regina said carefully. "I hope I'm his as well."

"Of course you are!" Snow said excitedly, getting to her feet. "This is perfect!"

Regina watched her stepdaughter with uncomprehending eyes. "What's perfect?"

"True love!" Snow said with her trademark intensity. "Don't you see? You can heal him! Give him true love's kiss!"

Regina's heart stuttered and then started racing. _True love's kiss_? Was it possible? She got to her feet and began pacing. "I'm not sure," she said in a voice that wasn't quite steady.

"What's not to be sure about?" Snow asked, watching Regina closely. "You love each other. It's the perfect solution."

Regina stopped pacing, dropped her eyes, and voiced one of her deepest fears. "What if I'm not his true love? What if it doesn't work?"

Snow was silent for several moments, and Regina finally looked up to meet the younger woman's eyes.

"There's only one way to find out," Snow said gently. "Don't you owe it to Robin, to yourself, to at least try?"

Regina stood still for a long moment, hope battling with fear. Finally she nodded. "Yeah. I guess you're right."

Snow stepped outside, giving Regina privacy. Regina took back her seat on the bed, swiped once more at Robin's hair, and then leaned down.

"I love you," she whispered, and then closed the final distance between them, pressing her lips firmly to his.

She felt—nothing; no flash of light, no surge of magical power. All she felt was her love for this man coursing through her, the stirrings of desire that kissing him—even in his inert state—awoke.

Regina sat back and looked at him, waiting, praying for him to open his eyes. Nothing happened. _Maybe I didn't do it right; maybe I have to focus more on our love._

She tried again, focusing all her thoughts, all her emotions, all her magical abilities on the man before her, on her feelings for him. She waited for long moments. Robin never stirred.

The tears began to fall unchecked now as a deep pit of despair opened within her. It had failed. True love's kiss had failed!

_Notes:_

_-What? WHAT?! Regina tried TLK and it FAILED? Now before you kill me, just keep in mind: all of the major TL couples (Snowing, Rumbelle, Captain Swan) have had a failed TLK at some point in their relationship, so don't count Outlaw Queen out yet._

_-In the "year before the 1__st__ curse" section, basically, I'm just bringing some events from 3x6 into my own little AU OUAT world._

_-Up next: Around 30 years ago in the Enchanted Forest, Anne Teach decides to go off on an adventure on her own. She ends up meeting a character well-known to OUAT fans. In the present day section, Emma, Killian and the knights make their way back to the Enchanted Forest._


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

_Enchanted Forest, about a year and a half before the 1__st__ curse_

Anne looked left then right, determined there was no one in sight, and then filched the simple peasant dress from the clothes line, promising herself she would return it when her adventure had come to an end. She ran swiftly through the woods, savoring the exhilaration her small act of piracy had thrumming through her whole system.

_What am I doing? This is insane!_

She'd already told herself a million times that this plan was crazy, and she'd only conceived it two days ago! If prim and proper Miss Phyllis Hornigold ever learned what she was _really _doing today…well, let's just say Edward's victims would probably have it easier than she would.

But insane or not, she was doing this. She could not live one more day in her stifling, suffocating life. Maybe if she gave in to this one insane whim, she'd get it out of her system, and then she would be content to settle into the life her benefactress planned for her.

And it wasn't like she planned to do anything _truly _scandalous. Maybe she'd sample a drink or two. Maybe she'd flirt like the women in the spicy novels she fervently prayed Miss Hornigold _never_ learned she secretly read. Maybe she'd even allow a handsome sailor to steal a kiss. But it would go no farther than that. She'd see to it.

When she'd finally reached the dark heart of the forest, Anne slowed to a stop and leaned against a tree to catch her breath. Reaching up, she quickly unpinned her nearly black hair, shaking it until it fell in riotous curls to the middle of her back. She pinned up the sides to keep them out of her face and peered at her distorted reflection in the rushing brook nearby. Aye, this would do.

Looking around once again to be sure she was well and truly alone, Anne made short work of shedding her proper, expensive dress and donning the peasant garb. She looked down and blushed. She felt half naked. Never had she exposed so much cleavage. If the lack of material was not bad enough, the tight, front-lacing corset certainly pushed her…um…_assets_ into prominent view.

_ Oh this was crazy! _Maybe she should just forget the whole venture. She could return the borrowed dress and go back to Miss Hornigold's house with none being the wiser.

Then her mind drifted back to the event, two days past that had led to her…unusual…plot. She'd had yet another row with Miss Hornigold about a gentleman suitor.

Edward had been as good as his word and had insisted in no uncertain terms that Anne was not to be forced to accept the hand of any suitor unless she wished to do so. From the tight pursing of her lips, the narrowing of her eyes, it was clear Miss Hornigold was far from pleased with this decree, but she nevertheless agreed to it. Blackbeard was already gaining quite the fearsome reputation, and it appeared Miss Hornigold feared to cross him.

But that didn't stop the inexorable spinster from attempting to persuade Anne to willingly accept one of the young men she was constantly parading before her. _Persuading, ha! Plaguing the very life out of her was more like it_.

This last "gentleman" was the worst by far. Lieutenant Wickham was handsome, she supposed, and well did he know it. The man was a conceited peacock! Clearly believed he was God's gift to women…_all_ women it would seem. In the hour he'd spent at the Hornigold household for tea, he'd already looked over five of the pretty housemaids. Looked over them _thoroughly_, as though he was imagining them without their clothing.

No sooner had Wickham walked out the front door and down the path toward his carriage then Anne had rounded on Miss Hornigold.

"You _cannot_ be serious!" she said, stomping her small, booted foot.

"And why not?" Miss Hornigold said with a huff. "He's a fine match, my dear. Lieutenant in the king's army, fabulously wealthy, handsome. What's not to like."

Anne's temper rose. "Oh, I don't know," she said in a voice liberally laced with sarcasm, "maybe the fact that if one was to look up the word 'conceited' in the dictionary one would find his picture. Perhaps the fact he's so obviously lecherous that he flirted scandalously with each and every one of our maids _right in front of me_! I'd prefer my husband at least _pretend_ he intends to remain faithful."

"Nonsense, girl," Miss Hornigold said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Men philander. It's to be expected. As long as a man provides you with a comfortable home, you would be a fool to let such scruples deter you."

Well if men could philander, so could she! That very night she'd decided she would have an adventure, whatever Miss Hornigold might think. She'd carefully thought out the details, and by morning her plan was fully formed.

"I would like to apologize for the shortness of my temper yesterday," Anne said at breakfast. "It was not behavior befitting the dignity of a lady."

Miss Hornigold had looked surprised and pleased. "It is no matter, my child," she said, gently. "You have been under a great deal of strain lately."

"Indeed I have," Anne said with a decisive nod, "and that is precisely what I wished to discuss with you this morning. Miss Hornigold, I believe I require a vacation. As you well know, I have friends residing in the country. Perhaps I would do well to visit with them for a time."

Miss Hornigold had looked at her over her spectacles for long moments. The older woman took a dainty sip of her tea and then nodded. "Perhaps you're right child. Perhaps a change of scenery would do you good."

And so here she was, not in the country with respectable friends after all, but rather in the woods in a scandalous peasant dress heading toward the docks.

Anne put a hand to her chest and took a deep fortifying breath. She was going to do this. She _had_ to do this.

As Anne walked through the village, she reviewed her plan in her mind. Tonight she was not Anne Teach, proper, ladylike eighteen-year-old maiden. No, tonight she was dangerous and exotic. If her brother could take a moniker, so could she. What name should she take? She thought of the exotic flowers that grew along the side of Miss Hornigold's house. _Perfect._ Tonight she was Tiger Lily.

The road beside the docks was jammed with people—sailors, merchants, everyone in between. Anne got more than her share of catcalls as she hurried, single-mindedly toward her destination.

Finally she was there. The tavern. Taking one more deep, fortifying breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

….

Captain Hook noticed the exotic beauty the moment she entered the tavern. His breath hitched and his eyes burned. _She looks like a young Milah_. He watched intently as the lass walked tentatively into the smoky, rowdy room and scanned the patrons.

She was young, barely old enough to enter this establishment, if he didn't miss his mark. Hook downed a shot of rum, completely ignoring the far less interesting redhead droning on and on at his side.

The lovely lass sashayed forward, swinging her hips in a rhythm that couldn't help but be alluring. Who was she? Not the typical bar maid; that was clear to see. If he didn't miss his mark—and he never did when it came to women—she was far more innocent than she attempted to appear. What was her story?

Hook got up and walked away from the redhead, leaving her mid-sentence. From the language flowing from her filthy mouth, it would seem she didn't appreciate being ignored. So be it. Hook could afford to be choosy about the women with which he kept company. He didn't like one? There was always a line of others waiting to take her place. It was the benefit of being devilishly handsome; he could play the field with the best of them.

An unwelcome stab of self-loathing hit him. When had he become such a cad? When had he ceased to be the deferential gentleman who treated ladies with unfailing respect?

Liam's death had started him on this path, but it was Milah's murder that had truly destroyed any goodness left in him. With her dead and gone, he had firmly vowed to never, under any circumstances, fall in love again. Love brought nothing but pain.

And so it simply became easier to look at women as decorative playthings. He'd accept what they offered, aye. He'd give them his body, but not his heart. Never his heart. The Crocodile had not only crushed Milah's heart on the deck of the _Jolly_, he'd crushed Hook's as well.

Hook sauntered toward the dark-haired, blue-eyed beauty, viciously thrusting aside any scruples he might have. He was the fearsome Captain Hook, terror of the high seas and lover extraordinaire. When he wanted something, he took it. And right at this moment he wanted this buxom beauty. Oh, he'd not force her into anything she didn't wish, but there was no end of places his seduction—or his rum—could take him.

She stood by the bar, looking slightly lost. He leaned lazily against the counter, and deliberately invaded her space. "You, lass, look like a woman who could use a drink." He slowly, knowingly ran his eyes from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet and then back again, spending liberal amounts of time on her magnificent décolletage.

Her eyes widened slightly, and a rosy blush colored her cheeks. For a moment she seemed at an utter loss for words. Hook's resulting grin was three parts seduction and one part amusement. The grin seemed to snap her out of her stupor. She visibly pulled herself together.

"That would depend, sailor," she said in a soft, breathy voice, leaning toward him slightly. "Are you offering?"

He moved until he was close enough to feel her breath on his lips. "I prefer 'captain,' love, but aye, I'm offering."

Her eyes widened at his nearness, and he heard her breath hitch. She was stirred by him, no mistake. A drink or two and she'd be putty in his hand.

"Well then," she said with a coy little smile, "Aye, I could use a drink."

Hook motioned to the bartender, who promptly brought him a large, half-filled bottle of rum. Grabbing the rum with one hand, and wrapping his opposite arm around the lass's shapely waist, Hook began moving toward the shadowy back of the tavern. "What say we find a table where we can get some…privacy?"

She drew in a quick breath, and then lazily let it out. "Sounds good to me, Captain."

He seated her, and then drew up his own chair so near to hers their legs were nearly touching. The lass's blush deepened. Grabbing two shot glasses, he poured them drinks. Hook tossed his back, but the lass hesitated.

"Don't stand on ceremony love," he said silkily.

She nodded, downed her glass, and then promptly started sputtering and coughing. Hook rubbed her back, invading her space even farther. "Are you alright, there, lass?"

"A..aye," she said around a spasm of coughing. "I believe drank too quickly."

Hook continued rubbing her back, leaning in. "Fear not, love," he whispered lasciviously in her ear. "If you should choke, I'm well-adept at mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."

Her eyes widened. "I'm sure you are," she said breathily.

Hook chuckled, pouring her another drink. The lass took the glass gingerly in her hand, raised it to clink with his, and the delicately sipped at it.

Hook leaned back languidly against his chair, and looked the lass over. She was nervous—he could see it in the slight tremor in her hand, in the flush of her cheeks, in the way her eyes shifted to him and then quickly away again—but she wished to appear the accomplished seductress. What led such a young innocent—for he had no doubt her experiences with men were limited—to pursue such a dangerous game?

"I find myself curious, love," he said. "Just who might you be?"

"Tiger Lily," she said simply.

Hm. A pseudonym. Interesting.

"Something tells me that's not the name your parents gave you."

She gave him a look that was somehow both demure and seductive. "What fun would it be if I gave you all my secrets?"

Hook chuckled, more intrigued by this woman by the moment. "What fun indeed, love? Very well. You may keep your secrets. I've no need of them to make sure you're exquisitely satisfied."

She laughed nervously and took another drink.

"So Captain," she said, setting her glass back upon the table, "what about you? Do you have a name to go with your title?"

He raised his left arm, and watched her eyes widen as they fell on his metal appendage. "Hook," he said simply.

"Captain Hook?" she asked in an awed voice.

He leaned forward. "It would seem you've heard of me."

"Aye," she answered, nodding carefully. "One of the most infamous pirates in the realm."

"Indeed," he said with a wicked grin, "but lovely ladies have no need to fear me."

"I don't fear you!" she said a little too quickly.

He chuckled and slid his arm along the back of her chair, leaning forward. "No, of course you don't, darling."

"Is it true that you are the captain of the fastest vessel in all the realms?"

He eyed her curiously. "You are well informed."

She shrugged. "I like to keep abreast of interesting information."

He began rubbing her shoulder, and she leaned in to his touch. "Aye," he said silkily, "the _Jolly _is a marvel. Suppose I take you to meet her? There's a…nightcap…with your name emblazoned upon it waiting in my quarters."

She looked startled for a moment, and Hook was sure she would refuse. And then she smiled. "Hmmm…a nightcap…that sounds interesting," she said. "Lead on Captain."

_Camelot, present day_

Emma stood at the bedroom window, enjoying the honeysuckle-scented breeze that blew over her face and hair. It was so beautiful here; so peaceful. She was half tempted to leave the Storybrooke gang to their own devices and just remain here with Killian forever.

They'd been in Camelot for two and a half days. It had taken the knights that long to arrange their affairs so that they could be away for an extended period of time. At first, Emma had felt guilty leaving Regina in the lurch for so long, but after the first morning of bliss, she'd decided to put all other thoughts aside and just enjoy the time she had with her husband.

It certainly wasn't the honeymoon she'd expected—although Killian had never told her where he'd planned to take her on their actual wedding trip, preferring to make it a surprise—but in hindsight the best destination the Land Without Magic could afford couldn't be any more idyllic. They'd spent long hours in this large, lavish bedroom, of course—the thought brought a slight blush to Emma's cheeks and a secret smile to her lips—but they'd also walked the grounds, sat hand in hand in the lavish gardens, laughed and talked with their fathers, just _enjoyed_ each other's company. Killian was in his element here, and Emma loved seeing him so happy, so playful, so utterly relaxed.

As though summoned by her thoughts, her husband crept up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her silken-nightgown clad middle. He leaned down and brushed a light kiss over her neck. "Morning, love. I was hoping you'd awakened."

Emma leaned back against him and rested her hands on his hand and stump. "Yeah," she said, "I've been up for a while. I woke to a completely empty bed, and thought it was kind of a shame. I can't have nearly as _enjoyable_ of a morning when you're not around."

Killian turned her in his arms and grinned wickedly down at her. "Well I'm here now. Perhaps we should return to the bed; I could more than adequately…apologize…for my earlier absence."

Her heart raced at the very suggestion, and she was more than half tempted to agree, but then common sense won out. "Don't think that's going to be possible, pirate. Breakfast's in twenty minutes, and you know how angry the cook gets when people are late to her meals."

Killian shuddered playfully. "Well do I know it. Ruthless as a pirate, that one is. I snuck down to the kitchens this morning, hoping to secure some provisions that we might share here in our chambers, and the lass fair to ripped my head clean from my shoulders.

Emma laughed, and then looked over their bedroom once more. Stone floor covered with lavender-scented rushes, stone walls with brilliant colored tapestries, huge fireplace, large, canopied bed. "It all looks so beautiful," she said under her breath.

"Aye," he said, never taking his eyes from her face, "it does at that, my love."

Emma blushed and dropped her eyes to the necklaces on his chest. "Killian, I'm a mess. No make-up, my hair looks like a bird tried to build a nest in it, and a Camelot night-gown so proper a nun might wear it."

He leaned forward and kissed her softly, slowly. "It matters not," he whispered against her lips. Even in your worst state you'd still be the most beautiful woman in the world."

Emma kissed him back, bringing her hand up to caress his stubbled jaw, and then finally pulled back. "Now I'm really running late. Time to get dressed."

"Shall I help you, love?" he asked hopefully.

She laughed. "Not a good idea, Jones. For one thing, now that I'm back to wearing normal Land Without Magic clothes rather than the torture devices known as Camelot dresses, I can manage getting dressed on my own."

"Aye," he said glumly, "that is a sad fact."

"And for another," she said with a short kiss to his lips, "I get the impression that with your help, I might end up with my clothes _off_ rather than on."

He grinned wickedly. "Indubitably."

She pushed at him, and he reluctantly let her go. "Go make up with the cook so she doesn't spit in our food or something. I'll be down in a minute."

….

Half an hour later, Killian found himself seated between Emma and Queen Guinevere at the king's table. Arthur, himself, sat on his wife's other side. Normally breakfast was a rather modest affair consisting of little more than bread and cheese, possibly a piece of fruit. Today, however, as this was to be the last meal before the knight and lady of prophecy were to leave, it was a lavish affair. The tables were near to falling with the weight of sausages and fruits and pastries and eggs and other unknown dishes of Camelot origin.

Killian enjoyed the food and the camaraderie more than he could have believed possible. He was beyond grateful he'd thought to bring the lass here to recruit allies. It wasn't merely the heavenly hours he'd spent with his love that caused his satisfaction. He was comfortable here. He'd come to enjoy the amenities of the Land Without Magic; indoor privies and hot showers alone worth any inconvenience of confusion, but he always felt at a loss in what the lass called the "modern world." It was as though he were a step behind at all times. Here, he was in his element. Here he was the one teaching Emma rather than the other way around.

The meal continued apace, laughter and pleasant conversation flowing all around. Killian had just swallowed his last bite when a wizened old woman approached the dais and bowed rather stiffly. He'd seen the woman before, but he couldn't recall making her acquaintance.

"Captain and Mrs. Jones," Arthur said formally, getting to his feet, "might I present Eleanor, our newest castle healer."

"The best healer any castle could have," Guinevere said enthusiastically.

The healer moved forward, and patted the queen on the cheek in a rather grandmotherly way. "And how fares our little princes or princesses this morning?"

Guinevere laughed. "They're both quite active this morning. I do believe they're holding a joust."

"They shall lead you a merry chase, Your Majesty," the healer said with a toothless grin.

"And we shall enjoy every moment of it," Arthur exclaimed.

The old woman shuffled forward and looked at Killian and Emma speculatively. She stretched her gnarled hand forward and placed it on Emma's belly.

"Ah," the woman said with a smile, "it seems ye'll soon have a babe of yer own to prepare for Mrs. Jones."

Emma looked up, surprised, and then laughed. "Eleanor," she said in a voice heavily laced with humor, "Killian and I have only been married for three days now. I think it's a little early to start talking about pregnancy!"

The woman shrugged and then gave Killian and Emma a smile. "Whether it's been three days or three years, mark my words, mark my words, a babe you shall soon have."

Killian's heart leapt at the words. A baby! With Emma! No doubt the lass was right, it was too soon to hope for such a miracle, but he prayed that one day it was a blessing they would be granted.

The healer walked slowly away, and Emma watched her with a speculative gaze, her hand unconsciously coming to her stomach. "Well, that was…weird."

King Arthur laughed. "That is Eleanor; always making impressive predictions. She's rarely accurate, but she's absolutely sure every time."

"Well, she's not _always_ wrong," Guinevere said. "She did after all inform me of my pregnancy fully a month before I could have known."

Emma shook her head with a smile. "A baby! I certainly want a few kids someday, but I'd rather wait until we aren't fighting some unknown villain. And, I'd rather be in the Land Without Magic where they have OB/GYNs and hospitals and epidurals and neo-natal intensive care units if needed."

Killian sighed, once again finding himself hopelessly lost.

"You don't have a clue what I'm talking about, do you, Killian?" Emma grinned.

"Alas, no love," Killian said with a theatrical sigh. "I am familiar with the facilities called 'hospitals,' but I must confess to being unaware how they related to child-bearing. Please tell me that husbands and wives are not required to perform conjugal acts within hospitals in order to conceive."

Emma laughed. "No, although I wouldn't put it past Whale and Ruby to use a storage closet every now and then. The hospital is where you go to give birth."

"I am much relieved," Killian said with a grin.

"Well, regardless of when or where the two of you are blessed to become with child," Guinevere said taking her husband's hand, "Arthur and I are eternally grateful to you and wish you all the happiness all the realms have to offer."

….

Emma took off her red leather jacket and wiped at the sweat on her brow. Really, walking through the desert No-Man's-Land between Camelot and the Enchanted Forest in the middle of the summer was ridiculously hot.

"Would you like some water, Buttercup?" her foster father asked, stepping up beside her.

"Yeah, thanks," she agreed taking the canteen from his hand.

They'd been walking for two hours already and probably had just as long left to go. She groaned, hoping they could somehow find a bath when they got back. She'd probably be drowning in sweat before it was all said and done.

"You doing alright?" her father asked with some concern.

"Yeah," she said, shooting him a surprised look. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, honey, you look exhausted."

She blushed slightly. "Yeah…um…Killian and I haven't been getting all that much sleep lately."

He laughed and draped an arm around her shoulder. "Now that I understand. I remember being a newlywed; seemed like your mother and I couldn't get enough of each other."

Emma looked ahead and saw her husband in an animated conversation with his own father. Still farther ahead, Sir Lancelot, the most introverted member of their group, walked forward on his own.

"Dad…" Emma hesitated. "I wanted to apologize."

He gave her a surprised look. "What for, Buttercup."

She shrugged. "Before we left last time, you asked me to talk to Mom, tell her what really happened to you. I meant to go see her; I really did, but then Killian and I got engaged and things were crazy getting ready for the wedding. I did send her a letter, but, I don't know, I never heard back. I don't even know if she got it."

He gave her a side-armed hug. "It's alright Emma. I know how busy things have been for you. Besides, now that you've discovered a new way to travel the realms—and a new way to protect Camelot if any of the knights leave for a time—I might just get the opportunity to go see my Rose and Tommy myself."

"Glad you're taking it like that," Emma said. "I've been wondering something. Was Mom from the Fairy Tale Land, too, or did you meet her in Boston?"

"Rose and I married about five years before the curse sent us to Boston," her father answered. "Her name here was Amelia."

"Amelia," Emma said, trying the name out, "I like it. It's pretty. What about Tommy. Was he born here?"

"Your mother was with child when we were cursed, but aye, your older brother was born in Boston."

They walked in silence for several minutes smiling as they heard the men before them laugh uproariously. Killian must have been very close to his father before he disappeared hundreds of years ago.

"Dad, how are we going to defeat this guy?" Emma asked abruptly. "We don't even know who he is, what he wants. And if he can't be defeated with weapons..." Emma made a helpless gesture with her hands.

"I don't know, Buttercup," he said with a frown. "I've wracked my brain trying to come up with _some_ clue, something that will help you figure out who or what you're dealing with, but I just can't come up with anything. I've never heard of anything like this before. Perhaps you should talk to the mermaid who brought the message to the queen. She may have more information."

"A good idea," Emma said reflectively, "but I don't know how we'll accomplish that. It's not like she has a telephone to call or something. We don't even know what realm she's in."

"Well, there's no point in worrying about all of it now," he said, "it'll all work out somehow. We'll figure it out."

"True love will conquer all and all of that?"

He laughed. "Yeah. Something like that."

He hesitated and then turned to face her. "Emma, you are happy aren't you?"

She looked at him, surprised. "Yeah, of course I am."

"You're satisfied with your life with Killian."

Her face softened. "Dad, I love him. He'd do anything for me; he's even shown he'd be willing to die for me. I don't know what I ever did to deserve that kind of devotion."

He smiled gently. "I've seen the smile he puts on your face; the love he feels for you. I'm glad."

Impulsively Emma hugged him. "I am too, Dad."

"It's just…" he continued, "Captain Hook was infamous. He's well known throughout this realm for the hurt he's caused, the people he's double crossed, the women—some of them wives and daughters—he's seduced. I don't want you getting hurt."

"He's got a past," Emma shrugged. "So what? I have a past too. Trust me, some of the things I did as a stupid kid out on the street…well, you don't even want to know. We've both got skeletons in our closets, and I've made peace with that. Believe me, given my trust issues and skeptical nature, if I wasn't one hundred percent convinced he's changed, I wouldn't have gone within two thousand miles of dating him—let alone marrying him."

"I believe you," her father said reflectively, "but I still urge caution. Killian may have changed, he may be truly a hero now, but there are many people he's hurt, many people who may yet be out for his blood. Vigilance is never amiss."

_Notes:_

_-I'm sorry about the past section, I truly am. It was hard to write about Hook seducing a barely-legal young woman (although in his defense, Anne very much seemed to want to be seduced). Even though we know about his villainous (and presumably womanizing) past, it's still hard to see it (at least for me). I assure you, it wasn't gratuitous; it was vitally important to the plot. Also, incidentally, I put in another allusion to my favorite Jane Austin novel._

_-In the current day section, Killian and Emma's honeymoon must sadly come to an end. At least no one is specifically targeting them in this adventure…and least not yet._

_-Up next: In the past section, Ursula cooks up a new scheme…a scheme that doesn't even involve sea creatures. In the present day section, we find out what Blackbeard did with Roland. Robin wakes up, but something is definitely not right…_


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

_Waters off the Enchanted Forest, about a year before the 1__st__ curse_

After two hours in her spa with a veritable army of her minions pampering her, Ursula still hadn't calmed down. Looked like a visit to her praise room was in order. She swam to the end of the corridor and opened the French doors. A vacantly smiling mermaid awaited her at the door with a soft robe and fuzzy slippers for each of her tentacles.

"So wonderful to see you again, your majesty," the woman said with enthusiasm. "Your radiant presence graces all who are fortunate enough to be within your vicinity."

"Thanks, toots," Ursula muttered distractedly, slipping on the luxurious items.

She'd no sooner gotten into the room before an old merman swam up, took her arm, and led her to an easy chair where her favorite beverage already sat in the cup holder.

"You are looking beautiful this morning Ursula. Positively radiant."

She needed this. Oh, she needed this. It really was one of her most brilliant ideas. After about a week of those two eel idiots constantly making cracks at her weight she'd decided she needed a place where she could get away from it all—and be surrounded by people who were constantly telling her how amazing she was. There were definite advantages to having a full battalion of mindless, robot-like slaves who would do whatever she wanted.

Ursula settled into her chair and let slave after slave come up to her and tell her how beautiful, how intelligent, how cunning, how perfect she was, and some of the stress finally started to ebb. So this "Evil Queen" beat her to the punch where Ariel was concerned? Big deal. She was Ursula! She was more than capable of devising a plan to get the trident—and a plan to punish the land-dweller who'd thrown a seahorse into her last brilliant plot.

She'd never really thought too much about land dwellers before. They were all stupid, incompetent catfish brains, weren't they? And yet she'd just been bested by one. Maybe it would be in her best interest to give the nasty creatures another thought.

What _was_ she going to do? How _was _she going to get the trident? She couldn't go as herself, she couldn't go in disguise, she didn't trust those two slimy amoeba brains as far as she could throw them. What then? Perhaps it was time for a trip to the brain room.

….

Albert met her at the door and led her into the room he'd decorated with complex equations, quotes in every known language and scientific maxims that Ursula couldn't even read, let alone understand.

"Good afternoon, your majesty," Albert said bowing at the waist, his bushy gray hair and mustache flowing with the ocean waves. "How might I and my intelligence assist you today?"

"I've got a problem," she said, pacing the room restlessly. "My powers are slipping, and I need more and more souls everyday just to stay afloat. I need Triton's trident, but every plot I come up with turns to seaweed! How do I get that stupid thing?"

Albert set a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles on the end of his nose and peered at her over steepled fingers. "You must think the problem through logically, Madam."

Ursula rolled her eyes. "Logic gives me a headache. What do you think I kidnapped you for?"

"By that grammatically incorrect statement—we do not end sentences with prepositions, Madam; prepositions require their corresponding objects to follow them—I assume you would like me to apply the logic to your particular predicament."

"Look Al," Ursula said, towering menacingly over the tiny merman, "I didn't bring you here to be my grammar police. Either help me out or I'll transfer you to the undersea sewage department."

Albert shuddered delicately and then bowed in Ursula's direction. "I'd be pleased to be of service to you, of course. Now, would you do me the courtesy of informing me of your failed plots to date?"

Ursula gave him a quick run-down. When she'd finished, Albert closed his eyes, obviously pondering the situation. Finally he nodded.

"So, due to Triton's precautions, you cannot enter the kingdom. You need help from lackeys you can trust, and you've determined Flotsam and Jetsam do not fit the bill."

Ursula glared at him. "That's what I just said. I didn't hire you to tell me what I already know!"

"As you don't pay me a salary, Madam, technically speaking, you did not hire me at all. Be that as it may, I find it useful to restate a difficult problem in order to grasp its magnitude and thus devise a workable solution."

Ursula plopped with difficulty into one of the desks near the front of the room and huffed in frustration. "What? Do they make these desks for midgets?"

"On the contrary, Madam. These desks were designed for students of average weight and size. As you exceed those limits, it stands to reason you would find the desks uncomfortable."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Ursula said with a roll of the eyes. "If I wanted someone to tell me I'm fat, I'd go chat with those two fish-brains. Stick to the issue! How do I get that trident? I thought maybe I'd send a few of my servants. Don't have to worry about them turning on me."

Albert shook his head. "That plan has severe limitations, I'm afraid. Your slaves were taken from Triton's kingdom. Their friends and relatives will recognize them and go to Triton for assistance. Given the power Triton wields, it is more likely said slaves would be rescued from your clutches than that they would complete your mission. Incidentally, should you decide to proceed with this inadvisable plan, I would be pleased to volunteer."

"Nice try, brainiac," she said sarcastically. "So I can't use merpeople. What other creature under the sea is smart enough to send?"

"Perhaps you'd do best to recruit for yourself beings that are not under the sea. Perhaps you'd do best to recruit a group of humans."

"Humans?" Ursula asked, her eyes widening. "How am I supposed to get my tentacles on humans? Besides, what use are they to me? Pretty sure Triton's gonna notice if a bunch of land dwellers walk in on two legs."

"That may be, Madam, but the problem will be much reduced if you utilize humans already used to stealth and theft. Pirates would be my suggestion."

_Pirates_? Yeah, that could work.

"You must be careful, though," Albert cautioned. "Men cannot survive underwater, and when their bodies die, their souls go with them. Dead pirates will be of absolutely no use to you."

….

And so Ursula had begun a delicate process of trial and error. She began haunting the surface whenever a violent storm was eminent. She waited until men were thrown overboard, and then she pounced. Sure enough. When she dragged the first man down to her lair, he died along the way. When she performed the spell to extract his soul, she ran into a brick wall; his soul was no longer there.

Next, Ursula tried her spell on a man who had not yet gone below the surface. She thought she'd succeeded at first. She retrieved the soul as always and planted it in her garden. Unfortunately, this guy only lasted about five minutes longer than the last one. His body died, and then his soul flew the coup.

Drat! She couldn't get her tentacles on dead men, but live ones were useless to her too. What did that leave her? Ursula paid one more visit to Albert in the brain room. If he didn't have a solution, she was pretty much screwed.

"You must catch your man at precisely the right moment," Albert suggested. "He must be more sea creature than land dweller."

"What's that mean?"

"As a man drowns, his lungs fill with water," Albert explained. "At the moment immediately prior to death, the man is more at one with the sea than with the land. Take the soul at that moment, and he is yours for eternity. The body will have the additional benefit of being impervious to attack by land weapons."

"Huh," Ursula said speculatively. "Why'd I care about that?"

"Well, Madam," he explained carefully, "a man impervious to attack on land would be ideally suited to land missions. Your horizons could immediately expand."

Well how about that! Ursula immediately set out to try it, and low and behold, it worked! Caught at just the right moment, a man was as malleable as a jellyfish.

Over the next six months, Ursula steadily expanded her collection of pirates, taking advantage of sea battles and storms—and occasionally causing them herself as the situation warranted. Finally she had amassed a pirate crew worthy of anyone's envy. She was just short one element—a leader. She needed to find herself a pirate captain, and then her mission to capture Triton's trident could be under way.

_Enchanted Forest, about 1 week ago_

Blackbeard glanced over his shoulder, saw the outlaw fall to the ground, having been overtaken by a number of his pirates. Facing forward again, he ran the last few steps to the tent. At first glance, the small dwelling appeared to be empty, but the child was here; he was sure of it.

Working methodically, Blackbeard searched the tent until his hand closed around a little arm hidden behind a crumpled sleeping palate. He'd found the boy. He gently tugged until the lad was freed from his hiding place.

The boy wriggled and screamed, crying for his father. Hardened pirate though he was, Blackbeard felt a stab of pain at the sight of the little one's terror. There was something about this child that reminded him of Anne.

_Anne_. The pain radiated until it took over his whole system. His beautiful vibrant sister! He missed her more than words could say. Perhaps if he'd handled things better it would have turned out differently. She would be a happy, thriving young woman rather than…

Edward ruthlessly shoved the memories aside before they consumed him. He had a job to do, and he needed all his wits, all his focus in order to succeed. Once he'd successfully exacted his revenge on the _witch_ who ruined his life, he could return his focus to the pirate that ruined his sister's.

Taking the lad in his arms as gently as he could, he quickly strode from the tent.

"Hey!" The shout came from a large outlaw with curly, shoulder-length hair. Wonderful! He didn't have time for this. He already felt himself slipping. He would be back in her control before long, and he _had_ to complete his task before that happened. Who was to know when he'd get another opportunity?

"Help!" the little boy screamed frantically. "Little John, help!"

_Little John_? How in all the realms did such a massive man come by a name like that?'

Spurred on by the little boy's cry, the outlaw sped forward, gathering others in his wake. Blackbeard sighed, resigning himself to the delay another battle would cause when several of his men stepped forward, effectively freeing him to be on his way. He threw a silent thanks to any god up there who was still on speaking terms with him after the violent life he'd been leading.

Then, wasting no more time, he took to his heels and ran. The boy screamed and flailed for some time, but eventually seemed to tire himself out, his screams settling into steady, heartbroken sobs. The sound tore at Blackbeard. His heart had been well and truly hardened when it came to the grown men he and his men routinely attacked, but children…that was a different story.

Blackbeard slowed his pace having left the outlaws a good three miles behind him. Breathing heavily, he gently patted the boy's shoulder. "I'll not harm you, lad, you've no need to fear that."

The child hiccupped, trying to get his emotions under control. "P…papa," he said brokenly. "You hurt Papa."

"He will heal, lad. I promise you," Blackbeard said gently. "My men know to use no more force than is absolutely necessary."

The boy cried silently for several more minutes, and then spoke again. "Wh..where are you taking me?"

Where indeed? Blackbeard had originally planned to give the boy to Ursula, but couldn't bring himself to do so. Her methods of dealing with him would be nothing short of brutal. Where else could the boy be kept until the queen offered herself up?

_Hornigold_. The boy could stay with Hornigold and his sister. Blackbeard knew his former captain would be more than happy to come to his aid. At the Hornigold household, this child would be cared for while being detained. Aye, it was the best solution for all involved.

"To a friend," Blackbeard answered soothingly. "I'm taking you to a friend of mine. Fear not; you'll be well cared for, and in no time you'll be back in the arms of your father."

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

Killian and Emma walked hand in hand across the drawbridge leading to her parents' castle as a brilliant sunset painted the sky.

"Lovely, isn't it, Swan?" Killian asked, bending down to whisper in her ear. A delicious shiver passed through her at her husband's nearness.

"Yeah," Emma said, "seems sunsets are always pretty here. It's just that last time we were too busy trying to keep nasty witches from killing us or our family to really notice."

"Perhaps I should be more concerned about the foe we face this time," Killian said, straightening again and then shrugging, "but I cannot bring myself to get worked up."

"I know what you mean," she said reflectively. "These last few days…well, I've been too happy just being with you to even spare a thought to what's been going down around here."

Killian grew quiet, and Emma looked up at him curiously. His bright blue eyes were on her, a tender smile draping his lips. "I'm glad, Emma. I truly am. I hope to keep you happy all the days of my life."

Emma smiled up at him, loving him, wishing she hadn't spent so much time pushing him away before they'd finally gotten together. She placed a hand behind his head and tugged him forward, planning to tell him of her feelings in the most eloquent way she knew how.

"Emma," he breathed as his eyes drifted shut, and he leaned forward to close the distance between them…

"Emma!" she heard her mother call excitedly just before her lips met Killian's. She groaned, gave him a quick peck, and then turned toward her advancing parents.

"I'm fond of your parents, love, I truly am," Killian said in a rueful voice, "but sometimes I find myself tempted to use my hook on them."

Emma giggled and grabbed his hand. "Don't worry pirate. This palace has plenty of bedrooms. I'll make sure we get one a good half a castle away from them, and then we can continue this conversation later tonight."

He grinned back at her. "I shall count the hours, my love."

Snow White hurried forward, surprisingly quickly for a woman so pregnant, her husband beside her. At the last moment, she skidded to a stop, glancing awkwardly from Emma to Killian.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"It's okay, mom," Emma said, pulling the older woman into a hug. "You know how it is with newlyweds."

"Indeed I do," Snow said, smiling up at her husband.

Killian stepped up and shook hands with Charming before making the introductions. Her parents knew Lancelot, of course, but they'd never met Galahad or Gawain.

"Lancelot!" Snow said, rushing forward to offer the large, black man a warm hug. "It's so good to see you again."

"And you as well, your majesty," he said with a touch of formality.

Within minutes, the men walked off together, talking of weapons and fighting and battle strategies. Emma found herself left with her mother.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see everyone here…in the castle…not hiding out somewhere from some bitch who'd once again taken over the kingdom," Emma said.

"You and me both," Snow said, laughing. "I can't even tell you how relieved I was when your father came back and told us it was Philip and Aurora in the castle."

The two women began walking forward toward the large, arched castle doors. "So what did we miss while we were in Camelot," Emma asked.

Her mother shrugged. "Not much, really. We haven't got any new information, any new leads. We're kind of spinning our tires right now. I can tell your father's starting to get restless. How are we supposed to fight against an enemy that won't even let us know who he is?"

"No idea," Emma muttered.

Snow looked up at her. "What about Camelot? Do the knights have anything to give us?"

Emma shook her head slowly. "They sent their three best to help us fight, but they're as stumped as everyone else as to who we're dealing with."

They walked in silence for a while, and then Emma's stomach growled. "Hope you guys left some dinner for us. We wanted to get back as fast as we could, so we just kind of snacked along the way rather than stop and eat a real lunch."

Snow laughed and rubbed her distended belly. "Trust me; this little guy keeps me more or less perpetually hungry, so I make sure the kitchen's always stocked."

Emma grinned. "I can already see that having a little brother is going to have its perks."

After a moment, Emma sobered. "How's Robin."

Snow looked troubled. "About the same. Still in a coma, still with a slight fever. But it's Regina that I'm most worried about."

"Regina? What's up with her? Just worried about Robin and Roland?"

"Well, yeah, she's worried about them," Snow said slowly, "but it's more than that. She tried true love's kiss on him—at my suggestion."

Emma's eyes opened in surprised. "Tried? You mean it didn't work?"

"No," Snow said with a troubled look, "and now Regina's…I don't know…completely despondent. It's like she's given up. Won't talk to anyone. Won't leave Robin's side. She'll barely even eat. I'm kind of worried about her."

"I can't believe true love's kiss didn't work for her. I would have sworn they were true loves."

Snow shrugged again. "Who knows? Maybe it's different when the loved one is knocked unconscious than it is when they're under a sleeping curse. All I know is that we'll need Regina for the fight—whenever that comes, and right now, she's pretty much m.i.a."

"I'll go talk to her," Emma said with determination. "Don't know if it'll do any good; we have a pretty…complicated relationship…but I can at least try."

Snow patted her on the arm in a motherly fashion. "I was hoping you would. I don't know if you'll have any more success than the rest of us, but it's worth a try."

"They in the infirmary wing?" Emma asked turning to veer in that direction.

Snow stopped her. "Yeah, but I didn't mean you had to go right this second. You and Killian need to eat first. Besides, I wanted to know…"

"Yeah?" Emma asked, confused at her mother's awkwardness.

Snow took a deep breath. "I know you and Killian had a chance to be alone over the past few days. As your mother, I'm glad to see how happy you are, how you just, I don't know, _glow_."

"Thanks mom," Emma said warmly. "Despite all the craziness around here, the last few days have been some of the best in my life."

Snow nodded. "And as your former roommate, Mary Margaret, I just_ have_ to ask. How was it?"

Emma grinned remembering long hours in Killian's arms. "As your daughter, I have to say 'Ew! Mom! I am _not _discussing this with you', but as your former roommate, all I'll say is…you'll get no complaint from me. That man certainly knows what he's doing between the sheets."

….

Regina looked bleakly down at Robin's pale face, flickering weirdly in the light of the wall sconce. Would he ever wake up, or would he one day just slip away? The thought brought an ache too deep for tears. She'd probably used up all her tears in the last few days anyway ever since…

Ever since she discovered that he didn't love her, at least not the way she loved him. What would she say to him if he did awaken? Would he even want her here with him? Would he be happy to see her at his side? Before the kiss she would have said yes. She would have been convinced he'd be as happy and relieved to see her as she was to see him.

A single tear slid from her eye and down her cheek. She guessed she wasn't completely cried out.

A knock sounded at the door, and she heard Emma's voice calling "Regina? Can I come in."

Regina scrubbed at her face. It had been engrained in her for so long that she needed to be strong and firmly in control when Miss Sw…Mrs. Jones was around, that she couldn't stand for the other woman to see the evidence of her tears.

"Sure, why not," Regina said as soon as she could be sure her voice would remain steady.

Emma walked in, looked down at Robin, and then put a comforting hand on Regina's shoulder. "At least he doesn't look any worse."

Regina shrugged. "I guess that's true."

"Can we go take a walk or something?" Emma asked. "Mary Margaret says you've been here pretty much non-stop. You need a break."

Regina looked up at her outraged. "Mrs. Jones, the man I love needs me. I'm not just going to abandon him. I thought you of all people could understand that!"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Come on, Regina," she said irritably. "You're not _abandoning_ him; you're just taking a short break. Besides, Belle's waiting just outside the door. She offered to sit with Robin while we're gone. She'll come get you if there's any change."

Regina was tempted to agree. It would be nice to stretch her legs for a few minutes. Finally she nodded. "Okay, fifteen minutes, then I'm back here."

Emma nodded. "Fifteen minutes is fine."

The two women walked in silence for several minutes, their shoes making a staccato sound against the stone corridors. Finally Regina could stand it no longer. "I tried true love's kiss on him, you know."

Emma looked at her. Her gaze was matter-of-fact, not pitying. For that Regina was grateful.

"Yeah, Mary Margaret told me," Emma finally said.

"So, then you know," Regina said. "You know that he doesn't feel the way I do."

"So you're just going to give up, throw in the towel then?" Emma's voice was brusque.

"What do you expect I do? True love magic didn't work. That's it. Nothing more to say about it. Robin doesn't love me."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Regina, but that's a load of crap," Emma said in a hard voice. "I never took you for a quitter."

Regina threw her hands helplessly in the air. "It's not quitting; it's just accepting reality."

"Bull."

"Excuse me?"

"I said 'bull'," Emma said, deliberately enunciating every word, "Look, Regina, maybe it's just because of how I grew up…in the real world without all the magic and fairy tale stuff, but I don't believe that. True love magic doesn't confirm your feelings? So what? Isn't everyone always saying true love has to be fought for? You love Robin? Fight for him. Maybe true love isn't born; maybe it's made."

Despite herself, Regina felt hope well up. "Do you really believe that, Mrs. Jones?"

"Yeah, I do. Look, Regina. I'll tell you one thing for damn sure. Once I decided I loved Killian, and there would never be another man for me, there's nothing in this world that would have kept me from him—not distance, not a curse, not the dictates of true love magic. Nothing. I thought you'd feel the same. You were the Evil Queen! You cursed a whole freaking kingdom because of hate. Are you really going to do any less for love?"

Determination and hope rose up within Regina. Was she going to give up? Like hell she was!

"You're right, Emma," she said firmly. "I'll fight for Robin for as long as it takes."

"That's the Regina I know."

The two women made the turn and began heading back to the infirmary.

"And for what it's worth," Emma said after a few minutes, "about every true love couple I know has had a failed true love kiss—Rumple and Belle, Killian and me, even freaking Snow White and Prince Charming. So if I were you, I wouldn't give up on my happy ending just yet."

"Thank you," Regina said. "I mean it, Emma. Thanks a lot."

"No problem."

They'd nearly made it back to the infirmary when Belle burst through the door. Regina stopped in her tracks nearly frozen in fear. But then Belle smiled.

"It's alright!" she said. "He's waking up. Robin's definitely waking up!"

Regina shot pat her into the infirmary. She ran to the bed where Robin lay. For the first time since they'd returned to the Enchanted Forest, he wasn't lying still as death but was moving around, groaning.

He opened his eyes just as she reached the bed. She sat on the bed, took his hand and smiled down into his wide, confused eyes. Reaching up, she brushed the hair off his brow. "Robin," she said tenderly, "you woke up. Finally you woke up!"

"It would seem so," he said in a small voice, rusty from disuse. "I have but one question, madam."

"What's that," Regina asked, caressing his jaw.

"Who _are_ you?"

_Notes:_

_-So there you have it. Ursula is collecting pirates and now she's looking for a captain, Roland is at least safe and not being tortured or something, and Robin has woken up but has amnesia. As for that last point, we all know what happens when someone tries TLK on someone who doesn't remember them!_

_-Up next: We meet back up with Anne, who learns that it's really best to guard your heart from handsome pirates you meet at taverns. In the present day, Ursula is freaking out because she's losing her powers. Blackbeard has a plan he doesn't think Ursula can refuse. Meanwhile, Regina continues to care for a very confused Robin, but when she receives a note from Blackbeard, she almost makes a desperately dangerous decision._


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

_Enchanted Forest, about 2 years before the 1__st__ curse_

Anne woke slowly, gradually swimming to the surface of consciousness. Her bed swayed, rocked back and forth. Well that was strange. Anne opened her eyes and looked around, confused at first.

And then the memories rushed in. Anne's cheeks flamed scarlet as she remembered the passionate night she'd spent with the dashing Captain Hook. She felt languid and refreshed and _utterly debauched_. She stretched slightly, feeling sore in places that deepened the flush on her cheeks.

When the captain had offered her a "nightcap" in his quarters she'd not know _quite_ what he meant. She knew he meant to offer her more than another drink; after all, he could have given her that at the tavern, but she'd had no idea he meant to do…well, what he did. Was this what Miss Hornigold had warned her about? If so, she sincerely wished she'd ignored her advice long _long_ ago.

They'd no more than reached his ship, the _Jolly Roger_, before he led her below deck to his quarters—_to his bedroom_. He'd whispered something seductive and low—so low she couldn't even make out the words—and then he was kissing her.

The kiss shocked her. She'd been kissed before, of course. She was considered a rather beautiful young woman, after all. But not like this. Never like this. The respectful young swains who had stolen kisses in the past had done little more than press their lips to hers. It had been frankly underwhelming.

Captain Hook, on the other hand, had nearly devoured her, teaching her bit by bit, little by exquisite little just what a kiss could be. His mouth, his wandering hands were insatiable, and after the first moment of absolute shock, her mind had gone blank, all thought had fled, and all that was left was the feeling, the sensation, the fire that started somewhere in her middle and expanded to flood every inch of her body.

Anne had always been a quick learner, and last night it served her well. It took mere moments of kissing the captain before she was eliciting moans and growls from deep within his chest. For some reason, he kept calling her "Milah," but as long as he was bringing out these sensations within her, she couldn't care less what he called her.

Need for…well, she wasn't quite sure what…throbbed within her.

Then his hand reached for the laces at the front of her corset, and Anne felt a quick check within her spirit. She had to stop this; _she had to_. Things were quickly spiraling entirely out of control, and if she didn't step back…well she had a feeling she was about to learn all of the secrets of what happened between men and women. Miss Hornigold had given her the basics, of course, but the particulars were still shrouded in fascinating mystery.

Mouths still fused, Hook began moving forward, heading inexorably for the small bed along the wall.

Making a heroic effort, Anne had pushed against Hook's chest, putting a few precious inches between them.

He grinned at her wickedly. "Hard-hearted lass! Don't you know how much I need you; how desperate I am for your delicious love."

"Perhaps we'd best move a bit more slowly, Captain," Anne said, surprised at how breathy her voice had become.

He moved forward, wrapping her in his arms, and then he dipped his head to kiss her collarbone. "There's no rush, lass, I've got the whole night to love you."

That wasn't _quite_ what she'd meant, but then he was kissing her again, and the last of her scruples, the last of her common sense had fled. This time, when he led her to the bed, she put up no resistance.

The night had been an education like none she had ever had. Never had she imagined intimacy between a man and a woman could be like that. Anne knew without doubt that her adventure last night had changed her life forever. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Because she loved him. After what happened here last night, she loved him like she'd never even imagined loving a man. She could never go back to Miss Hornigold's; she could never marry any of the bores who courted her. Never did she want another man but Captain Hook.

He felt the same; she knew he did. It was obvious in the words he spoke to her, the gentle caresses, the way he took exquisite care of her. He loved her.

Anne began spinning an elaborate castle in the clouds. She would become his pirate bride, sailing the seas with him, joining in his adventures, and loving him with every fiber in her being. She would be a good wife to him. True, he'd never said a word about marriage last night, but she had no doubt he would soon. How could anyone spend a night like _that_ without being madly in love, without intending marriage and family and happily ever after?

Anne rolled over, planning to throw her arm around the man next to her…but the bed was empty. The first wisps of doubt slowly made their way into her mind, but she threw them aside. He'd be back any minute, and then their beautiful adventure could really begin.

….

Hook stood at the deck, staring sightlessly out at the open sea, sending up a silent thanks that it was cloudy today. His head felt like it was splitting in two, and bright sunlight probably would have sent him to his very knees.

When was the last time he'd imbibed so liberally? More than likely he hadn't drunk so much rum in one sitting since the early days after Milah's death.

_Milah_. The pain was there, just below the surface, of course, but there was something more today. There was guilt, an emotion he had been ruthlessly shoving aside for nigh on three centuries. The origin of his guilt? That young brunette beauty currently sleeping in his bed.

Hook groaned, and then grabbed his aching head. He'd known she was an innocent; it was more than evident in her responses to him as soon as they'd returned to his quarters. A gentleman, a man of honor would have pulled back, would have sent the lass on her way.

But, evidently he was not a man of honor nor a gentleman. He was a cad, pure and simple. He'd seen a beautiful young lass who was clearly out for an adventure, an adventure of which she didn't understand the ramifications, and he'd taken everything she'd offered—and seduced her into offering yet more.

How was he to deal with her? She'd want more from him; he knew she would, but there was no more within him to give. Regardless of her looks, this "Tiger Lily" was not his Milah, was nowhere _close_ to his Milah. Best he send her on her way as quickly as possible.

The thought made him feel vaguely uncomfortable. He was going to break her heart—a heart she had worn openly on her sleeve throughout the long, passion-hazed night.

And then he deliberately hardened his heart. He'd committed no crime; he'd merely given the lass what she'd wanted. If she was hurt by the experience, that was no fault of his. Perhaps she'd emerge from this experience a wiser woman, a woman who would think twice about offering everything she had to a charming stranger.

He walked firmly toward the hatch and descended to his quarters. She was sitting in his bed looking slightly dazed and thoroughly debauched. As soon as he made his appearance a wide delighted smile lit her face. Hook made a beeline to his stash of rum. He was going to need it.

"Good morning, captain," she said shyly. Just how old was this girl? Her voice this morning sounded like that of a young child.

"Lass," he said with a nod of his head. He poured himself a shot and downed it in one smooth movement. The spicy fire fortified him. Turning toward her, he hardened his face into lines of both coldness and contempt. He saw confusion enter her beautiful eyes.

"Why are you still abed, lass?" he asked icily. "Normally my women are up and gone with the dawn; they know I prefer it that way."

The confusion was laced with distress now. "But…but Captain," she stuttered, "am I not to set sail with you?"

He mentally groaned. She was going to make this as awkward and difficult as possible.

"What in any of the realms would have given you that idea, darling?"

Her eyes filled with tears. "Last night…I just thought…but Captain…I love you!"

He eyed her indifferently and then turned away, pouring himself another shot of liquid fortitude. "That would seem to be your misfortune, my dear, not mine. I don't fall in love with the playthings I bring to my ship for a quick tumble."

He heard her quick, shocked indrawn breath, and hated himself.

"Well, up and about darling," he said brusquely. "Make yourself decent. I've a mind to set sail soon, and I've no wish to wait for you to take your leave."

She merely sat there, tragedy lurking in her eyes.

"Oh, is it this you require?" he asked, pulling a small pouch of gold from his pocket and tossing it on the bed. "Payment for services rendered? It was perfectly adequate in my drunken state, but a bit of advice. If you wish to amass any amount of wealth in this way, work on your technique."

All color drained from her cheeks at his implications, and then they flushed an angry red. The tragedy was gone, replaced by a deep rage, if her flashing eyes were any indication. She leapt to her feet, donned her remaining clothing, and flung the money pouch at his feet. The satin burst at the violent contact, and gold coins scattered throughout the room. Giving him a contemptuous glare and a furious imprecation that he certainly deserved, the lass stalked from the cabin.

Foregoing the shot glass, Hook upended the bottle into his waiting mouth. He half wished the lass had run him through with his own sword. It was no more than he merited.

_Waters off the Enchanted Forest, present day_

Ursula extended her hands, effectively silencing the pleading mermaid before her as her soul left her body and planted itself in Ursula's garden. Ursula closed her eyes in relief, feeling the rush of power flow over her once again. Ten silent, vacant-eyed merpeople now treaded water before her, awaiting her orders.

She sighed in relief. She liked merpeople. She _loved_ merpeople. Nice, happy, mindless compliant beings who did what she wanted when she wanted how she wanted…and with no commentary. They were the ideal servants.

They were nothing like humans. It had taken a grand total of one day for her to realize that things didn't work the same way when it came to humans. Oh she could control them, alright. She could make them do what she wanted, but she couldn't get rid of their arrogant, annoying personalities. Souls or no souls, they continued on as they had before—voicing their opinions, glaring at her, insulting her, muttering under their breath.

Albert believed it was because she was dealing with pirates. According to him, the nasty creatures spent so much time acting like they had no souls that it was no wonder that their demeanor didn't change when they actually _had_ lost them.

Within a week, she was so fed up with the blighters that she transferred Albert to sewage for a month in retaliation for his suggestion she use pirates in her mission.

She spent half her life these days pulling her hair out, more frustrated than a stepped-on jellyfish. Oh but she dreamed. Oh, yes, she dreamed. Long, _delicious_ dreams where she wiped saucy grins off smug faces. _Beautiful_, radiant dreams filled with pirates suffering pain and torture and maiming. All she could do was dream, more's the pity. To her great, great sorrow, Albert had been quite correct about the whole "impervious" thing. There wasn't a damn thing she could do to harm the men.

A month in sewage was not _nearly _enough. She might just move Albert there permanently!

But frustrating, cocky, profane, violent, vulgar, _infuriating_ pirates stuck where she put them were bad enough. Pirates who managed to _get away_—well, that was nothing but catastrophe. Three days ago she'd woken from an absolutely exhilarating dream where she was pulling Blackbeard's fingernails off one by one, only to find the pirate captain _and his entire crew_ gone. Gone! Without a trace.

Ursula's immediate fear was that the men had managed to retrieve their souls and escape, but when she rushed to her garden she found their black, shriveled souls still staring at her—arrogantly. So they hadn't escaped…but they had managed to leave. How?

As the day moved along, it became painfully obvious just _how_. Her magic, her power was slipping. Fast. At this rate she had less than a month before she lost absolutely everything. The fear threatened to overwhelm. So much that she couldn't even _eat_ over the last two days.

Finally she'd called Flotsam and Jetsam to her. It was a sad commentary on her newest servants when the slimy fish brains were starting to look kind and considerate to her; that's what happens when you surround yourself with pirates.

Anyway…she'd tasked them to go round up as many gullible saps as they could get their fins on. She wheeled and dealed with the best of them, and finally, _finally_ she was beginning to get a return on her investment. The first batch of poor, unfortunate souls had reneged on their deals, and she had them!

The power and magic she felt thrumming through her body wasn't nearly as much as it should be, but it was enough to get those bloody pirates back.

"Blackbeard!" she shouted, "get your skinny biped rear-end back here. Pronto!"

It took quite a bit longer than she would have liked, but in due time the bearded menace sauntered in unconcernedly. "Yes, oh sea-witch most foul. You bellowed?"

"I don't bellow. And you'd better watch your tone, bucko!"

He merely grinned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Where the _hell_ did you and your lackeys go? What in Poseidon's name gave you the right to skip out on me?" she asked menacingly.

The dangerous tone seemed to have no effect on the pirate. "Where I and my men went is my business. As for who gave me the right? I answer to no one. I gave myself the right."

Steam was about to come pouring out of her ears; it really was. "You. Belong. To. Me." She spat, articulating every word with care.

Blackbeard's careless, cocky manner suddenly evaporated and he became positively menacing. "I belong to _no one_, do you hear me? No one! I am my own man and no fat _bitch_ of an octopus is going to tell me otherwise."

Thank Poseidon that whole "impervious" thing went both ways. She was pretty sure if he could have, he would have wrapped those big, rough hands around her neck and squeezed. "Okay, okay," she said with a placating gesture. "Keep your pants on big guy. It was just a simple question. Where'd you go?"

He eyed her moodily for several moments, and then finally melted back into his cocky pose. "The surface. I was given vital information on the Evil Queen and her interests, and I took advantage of said intel."

"What'd you care about the queen?"

He gave her a scathing look. "She's the one who sold me to you."

Yeah, well, that might give someone a grudge, she supposed.

The pirate's demeanor changed yet again. He looked positively pleasant.

"Ursula, is that a new dress? I quite approve. It's rather slimming."

Uh-huh. She wasn't buying this guy's crap for a moment. "Alright wise guy, just what is it you want?"

He sighed. "What? Can't a man merely pay a compliment?"

"Yeah, where you sea slugs of pirates are concerned…pretty sure that's an impossibility."

"Fine," Blackbeard bit out. "I do have a request however."

"Lay it on me big guy."

"I've just received word that my plot has borne fruit. The Evil Queen has returned. Allow me to return to land, go to the castle."

"She's a powerful magical being," Ursula says, "you're not. You don't even have your soul. What do you think you're going to do to her? Sing show tunes until she's annoyed to death?"

It appeared the pirate was holding onto his temper with the greatest difficulty. "I may not be able to take her by force or end her worthless life, protected as she is by her magic, but that doesn't mean I cannot harm her. I can lure her to me."

"Then what?"

"I give her to you."

"Me?" she asked, startled. "Why'd I want her?"

"Think, your bulbousness! Take her soul and all her magic, all her power is yours. Take her soul and you have a new weapon. Take her soul and you have the _perfect_ slave to help you accomplish your mission."

Suddenly a whole new world of possibilities opened up before Ursula. Maybe she was aiming too low. Why should she settle for uncouth pirates when she could have a queen? For the first time in all the time she'd had Blackbeard in her soul collection she was truly glad she'd grabbed him. Still, best not to let him know that. His head would get so big he wouldn't be able to wear that ridiculous tri-cornered hat.

"How do I know you don't just plan to fly the coop once I give you permission?" she asked skeptically.

"I shall provide you with a bit of insurance," Blackbeard said. "Only release me in part. Weakening though you are, I know you still have the power. Release me in part, and I will be little more than a ghost. I only ask that you allow me enough of my corporal body that I can hold and handle a piece of paper. In such a state I will be literally incapable of double-crossing you."

It was a good plan; truly brilliant. "Alright sonny boy. Have at 'em."

_Enchanted forest, Snow and Charming's castle, present day_

"Who are you?"

Emma skidded to a halt in the infirmary doorway at Robin's hoarse question. Regina turned and looked at her, shock and pain in her brown eyes.

"I…I'm Regina, Robin," she said hesitantly, turning back to the injured man. "Don't you remember me?"

Emma walked silently into the room and stood behind Regina. The outlaw glanced in confusion between the two women.

"No," he said finally, agitation evident in his voice. "I don't know you, either of you. I don't believe we've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"You received quite the blow to your head," Emma said matter-of-factly. "That would explain some memory loss."

Robin reached up with his left hand and gingerly probed the bump at the back of his head and then groaned.

"What happened to me?"

"We were kind of hoping you could tell us that," Emma said. "Do you remember anything about the attack?"

"The attack?" his eyes suddenly widened, and then terrible pain filled them. "A..aye. I remember the attack now."

Regina reached over and took his hand. "Can you tell us about what happened?"

Tears filled Robin's eyes, and he hastily turned his head to hide the evidence of his emotions. Finally he turned back to the two women. "Aye. It was just a week past. My wife, Marian, and I were spending a quiet evening at home when Friar Tuck came to give us the news."

_Um…what?_

"It seems the _Evil Queen_ went on another of her murderous raids," he spat the name as though it was a curse word. "She murdered every last man woman and child in my dear Marian's home village. My brave, beautiful wife! The only woman I've ever loved! She'd dead because of what happened that day."

The emotions finally became too much for him, and deep, wracking sobs shook his body. Regina watched him with tragic eyes. She'd gone so pale Emma feared she was about to pass out. Finally it seemed as though the worst of Robin's grief was spent for the moment.

"Forgive me, ladies," he said in a shaky voice, a flush of embarrassment tinting his face, "but it's only been a week. My…loss still feels like a large, gaping wound."

"It's alright, Robin," Regina said gently, stroking his arm

After a moment a new thought seemed to strike Robin. "Where's Roland? Where's my tiny babe?"

Regina and Emma exchanged glances, and then Regina started to speak hesitantly. "Robin…he's been…"

"Well cared for," Emma broke in, giving Regina a significant look. "Don't worry about your son. We won't let anything happen to him."

"My thanks," Robin said with a nod that brought a groan of pain to his lips.

Regina grabbed a small bottle from the bedside table. "Drink this, Robin," she said tenderly. "It's a potion to deaden the pain."

He did as requested, and within moments his brow smoothed, and a look of relief crossed his face. "Thank God," he whispered, and then his eyes slowly drifted shut.

"Is he slipping back into the coma?" Emma asked in concern.

Regina shook her head, and then swiped at her suspiciously moist eyes. "No. This potion for pain causes drowsiness. It's just as well; sleep will help him heal."

"Come on Regina," Emma said after a moment, "let's go get the healers. They need to know he's woken up."

Regina looked up and finally nodded. She got to her feet and slowly preceded Emma from the room, her head bowed, her hands clenching and unclenching. As soon as they'd cleared the doorway and found themselves in the dimly-lit stone hallway, Regina stopped and turned to Emma.

"He doesn't remember me. He thinks Marian just died." Regina's voice was hollow almost monotone.

Emma's eyes reflected her sympathy. "I'm sorry, Regina."

"He…he thinks of the Evil Queen as the woman who caused his wife's death. He doesn't remember what we had last year."

Emma placed a comforting hand on Regina's arm. "I'm not a doctor or anything, but I think it's not unusual for someone with a head injury to suffer amnesia for a while. Eventually the Robin you know—the one who loves you—will come back."

"I hope so," Regina said bleakly, "but in the meantime, don't tell him who I really am. It was hard enough when he hated me last year when we didn't even know each other. If he looked at me with that kind of venom now…."

"No problem," Emma said. "You can be just Regina, a servant or nurse or something. Maybe you can put in a good word for the Evil Queen while you're taking care of him."

Regina smiled sadly. "As much grief as he's feeling for the wife he thinks just died, I'm not sure all the good words in the world would make much difference. Look, Emma, I know we need to get the healers and tell everyone else what's happened, but I just can't face people right now."

"Don't worry about it; just sit tight. Stay with Robin; I'll take care of everyone else."

'Thanks."

….

Blackbeard glided soundlessly through the halls of the castle. The clock in the great hall had just chimed 3:00 a.m., so he was reasonably sure to meet no one during this mission. Still, if he did, he could quite literally melt into the shadows.

As he'd surmised, Ursula had managed to partially free him. For now, he was more ghost than man. He held up his hand and saw it's faintly translucent quality in the uncertain light of the wall sconces. He wouldn't relish remaining in this state permanently, but it was dead useful when performing tasks that required secrecy.

As he walked through the halls he searched room by room to find the woman he was looking for. It seemed this floor was largely empty, but there was a faint light shining from beneath the last door on the left.

Cautiously, Blackbeard eased the door open inch, by precious inch. By the potions, bandages and other healing aids lining the walls, he surmised he'd reached the infirmary. Only one of the five beds appeared to be occupied.

Robin Hood. The bed was occupied by a sleeping or unconscious Robin Hood. And there beside him, in an uncomfortable, straight back chair sat his quarry, the Evil Queen herself. She'd fallen asleep and her head lay uncomfortably against her chest. Perfect.

Never had Blackbeard wanted something more than he wanted to produce a weapon and decimate the perfidious witch where she sat, but he couldn't. In his current only partially-there state, he couldn't touch her.

Blackbeard silently glided to the bed, pulled a small, thin envelope from his breast pocket, placed it on the bedside table, and left the room.

A grim feeling of satisfaction filled him. He'd accomplished what he'd set out to do. With any luck the queen would take the bait.

….

Regina woke and groaned. She had a crick in her neck like you wouldn't believe. She needed to get a more comfortable chair, and she needed to get it soon. Many more nights on this torture device and she'd go crazy.

Before last night, Regina had curled up next to Robin when it was time to sleep. He'd lain still and silent, but his warmth, his steadily beating heart brought her hope and comfort. But after he'd come to last evening…well, Regina feared what would happen if he woke at night to find her in his bed. She didn't think she would be able to bear it if he rejected her.

Twisting her neck from side to side, trying to work out some of the kinks, Regina noticed an envelope sitting prominently on the nightstand. _That's strange. I could have sworn there was nothing there but healing potions and water when I went to sleep last night._

Curious, Regina took the small missive into her hand. It bore only one word on the front. Her name.

Regina pulled out the single sheet of paper, unfolded it and began to read.

_Your reign of terror has finally come to an end. At long last you will pay for the evil you have inflicted on your helpless subjects. I have taken Robin Hood's son, Roland. Be assured he is safe…for now. If your lover ever wishes to see his child alive again, you will come to the north shore near the fallen oak at dawn one week from today. You will come alone bringing neither weapons nor magic. Surrender to me and Roland shall be returned to his father. Ignore this summons and what happens to the boy will be on your head._

All color fled from Regina's face, as the letter fell from her nerveless fingers.

_Notes:_

_-That "in the past" section was certainly awkward and painful. Hook was certainly acting like anything but a gentleman. Considering he's one of my favorite OUAT character (if you hadn't already noticed!), this part was hard to write, but I promise, it's still necessary._

_-I can't help but feel sorry for Regina in "the present" section. The hits just seem to keep coming for her. How will she deal with the note? Will she actually give herself up to Blackbeard?_

_-Up next: Under the sea a year and a half or so before the first curse, Ursula decides to pay Regina a visit—to threaten her for impersonating her and to try to bribe her into finding Ursula a pirate captain. In the present section, Regina makes a decision about how to respond to the note. Meanwhile, Blackbeard comes to realize his other mortal enemy is also currently staying in the castle and the Storybrooke gang figures out who it was who kidnapped Roland._


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

_Waters off the Enchanted Forest, about a year before the first curse_

Ursula closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose feeling the headache blossom. How she was going to survive this meeting without resorting to murder was beyond her.

"No," she growled, "for the three and a half millionth time, _I do not have rum_. You can drink wine if you're so desperate for booze."

The pirate scoffed. "That grape juice? You call that wine? I've stolen better stuff from teetotalers."

"You're a slave!" Ursula burst out glaring at the men assembled before her. "You're all my slaves. You don't complain about my beverages; you're just grateful I provide you with anything!"

The two pirates closest to her exchanged a glance and then burst into uproarious laughter.

"Shut your traps!" she bellowed. "You better just watch yourself or I might toss you back in my dungeon."

"That brig?" someone at the back of the room asked in obvious amusement. "Won't do you any good. Picking the locks is child's play. We'll be out before you get back to your great hall"

Ursula sighed noisily. Unfortunately the man was right. Yesterday the guys had driven her up the wall to such a degree she'd thrown the whole lot in the dungeon buried deep within the ocean floor. When she'd returned to her dining room five minutes later, she found a room full of pirates eating her food and liberally imbibing of her spirits. The boldest among them had belched impressively throwing the rest of the group into gales of laughter. _Great. Not only are they disorderly and vulgar, they're also a bunch of children!_

"Now," Ursula said coming back to the present, "I didn't bring you here so you could bug me about my liquor supply. I brought you so we could discuss your mission."

She glanced around the room, and a vein in her forehead began throbbing. "You! In the back! What the hell do you think you're doing? Hands off!"

The man scowled at her, but set down the necklace and earrings he'd just pilfered.

"What kind of people are you anyway? Stealing everything in sight, no manners, no respect for your superiors!" she huffed in frustration.

They looked around at each other and then answered as one in a tone that implied she was a complete idiot. "Pirates."

_The trident. I need them for the trident. Can't kill them until I get the trident._ She repeated it over and over under her breath like a mantra until she finally regained her temper.

"Now," she said in a voice she tried desperately to keep calm, "You are going to steal the trident from King Triton."

"Aye, aye," the man in front said with a mocking salute. "What's the plan?"

"How the hell should I know?" she bellowed, "that's what I stole you for!"

"Captain gives the orders," a man in the middle offered.

"Alright then," Ursula said slowly, "which one of you wants to be captain?"

Fifty hands shot into the air. _Sigh_.

"Which one of you has the brains to plan and lead the operation?"

Fifty hands slowly lowered to their sides. _Even longer sigh_.

She was getting nowhere. Officially. She'd have to get a captain…a _real_ captain….soon or she'd be stuck with this bunch of kleptomaniac buffoons and no trident forever!

But how? Captains weren't easy to come by. She'd been collecting pirates for a couple of months, but she'd yet to get even a first mate. Her tactics weren't working.

Maybe she needed help. Maybe if she paid a little visit to a land dweller she could get what she needed. Suddenly she knew _exactly_ what she needed to do.

….

_Enchanted Forest _

Regina tore off her gloves and threw them at her vanity. She'd failed. Again. Despite all her efforts with that little red-headed mermaid, Snow had _still _gotten away. She poured herself a drink, draining the carafe, and then threw the offending container against the wall. It shattered with a satisfying crash.

She'd provided Ariel with means to become human, given her everything she needed for her idyllic night with her prince, and what had she gotten in return? Nothing!

There for a moment, Regina had smelled the sweet aroma of victory. The fish woman had taken the bait, so to speak. She'd had her night with her prince, she'd brought Snow back to the docks, she'd put the bracelet on Snow's wrist turning her into a beached mermaid, and Regina had swooped in for the kill. And then that damned mermaid had stabbed Regina with a fork. _A fork!_ She'd been thwarted by an eating utensil!

Regina began pacing her chamber. Would she _ever_ get her vengeance? She stopped before the bas-relief of Ursula.

"What use are you?" she yelled at the image of the octopus with a woman's features. "Fat, incompetent, impotent, aquatic, ridiculous myth! What use are you?"

Suddenly the sculpture began to move and shift like agitated water in the midst of a storm. Ursula's bronze hand shot forward and closed around Regina's neck. Regina gasped, clawing at the hand as it squeezed. Her lungs began to scream for air.

Regina shot magic spells at the hand, the now animated sculpture, but nothing happened. Panic set in.

"Watch the names you call people, you impersonating bitch!" the sculpture snarled.

Regina made a strangled sound at the back of her throat, and Ursula eased her hold until Regina could finally breathe again. "You…you exist!" Regina said shakily.

"Well spotted, genius," Ursula said sarcastically.

"What do you want?" Regina asked. Immediate crisis over, her accustomed haughtiness was back in full force. She was the queen! The bloody _queen_! She didn't cower before personified statues. What power did a sea-witch hold over her?

As though she heard Regina's mental question, Ursula squeezed once again and then let go. Regina's hands went to her neck, felt the bruises beginning to form from the statue's fingers. Maybe it would be best not to antagonize Ursula.

"Pardon my rudeness," Regina said with only a hint of sarcasm this time. "What is it that you want?"

"Number 1," Ursula said holding up one finger, "don't you _ever, ever_ pretend to be me again. You're a disgrace; not believable at all. I've got a reputation to uphold here, can't have some brunette bimbo of an evil queen messing it up for me."

"Really?" Regina said with a raised eyebrow.

The bronze hand shot out again, closing around Regina's windpipe. "Yes, 'really', toots. Next time I don't stop squeezing until your eyeballs pop out of your head."

She let go again. Regina stepped back and then glared. "Fine. No more impersonation. Not like it got me anywhere anyway. Anything else."

"Yeah," Ursula said, settling back into her sculpture more comfortably. "I need a pirate captain."

Regina raised her eyebrows. "What? Mermen just not satisfying you anymore?"

Ursula rolled her eyes. "Not like that! For the love of Poseidon, I can barely stand to be in the same _room_ with the nasty sons-of-bitches let alone…" She shuttered dramatically.

"Very well," Regina said, "If you don't want a pirate like _that_. What do you want from one?"

"That's my business, you nosy broad," Ursula huffed. "You worry about getting me my captain; I worry about what to do with him once he's in my collection."

Regina leaned back and folded her arms across her chest. "And just why should I do your bidding? I'm the evil queen. I don't take orders, I give them."

"Thought you had more brains than that, toots," Ursula said contemptuously. "Why should you do my bidding? Hmm. Maybe because if you don't I'll hunt you down and squeeze your neck until your head falls off!"

"Your threats don't frighten me," Regina said boldly. "I'll find a way to defeat you."

"Maybe," Ursula said, "but I wouldn't if I were you."

"And why is that."

"Because the second reason you should do my bidding is quite simple. I've got spies everywhere there's water. Get me my captain and I'll give you all the intel you want on your precious little Snow White."

Regina thought about it for a moment and then stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Deal."

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

The night after Robin woke from the coma, the dreams began. They were little more than impressions, sensations. His nurse (Regina, wasn't it?) featured prominently—only she was different. She wore expensive gowns, those fit for royalty. She wore her beautiful hair in elaborate styles rather than simply tying it back like his nurse did.

Then there was the boy. He appeared in many of the dreams as well. He had a mop of curly black hair and dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. And his eyes! The lad had Marian's eyes.

Sometimes the three of them were together, talking and laughing. Sometimes it was just him and the lad, and those dreams were always cloaked with sadness.

But not the dreams with Regina. No, sadness had no place with her, at least while he was sleeping. No, around her there was nothing but joy and love. So much love he ached with it.

He woke suddenly on the third morning since the coma, smile draping his face. He'd been with Regina in that last dream, holding her, kissing her, sharing his very heart with her. And when he awoke, there she was, sitting awkwardly by his bed, her head tilted at an uncomfortable angle. She shouldn't be in that chair! She should be in the bed with him where he could hold her, where he could…Memories slammed back in. Marian! His lovely, beautiful Marian! What manner of monster was he to even _think_ of another woman when his lovely wife had been gone little more than a week? The sadness claimed him then, and he closed his eyes, willing himself to go back to sleep where at least there was a short respite from the agony.

….

Regina opened her eyes and bleakly looked at the man lying before her. He'd awoken earlier this morning, and for a split second she'd seen the old Robin shining through his eyes. He'd worn an expression of nothing short of love and adoration when he looked at her. Then as quickly as it came, it was gone, replaced by the grief and agony that were his near constant companions.

Regina ached for him, wished there was something she could do to help him, but there was nothing. No, that wasn't quite true. She could get his son back for him. Robin needed his son.

She thought of the ransom note she'd folded and buried deep within the bedside table. She'd told no one of its existence, but it ate at her. That first day she'd gone back and forth debating with herself about what she needed to do, but that night she'd made up her mind.

_If you ignore my summons, what happens to the boy will be on your head._

That line tortured her. If she refused to go, if she told the others and they insisted on coming with her, the monster would harm Roland. She couldn't let that happen; she couldn't! She couldn't bear the thought of that little boy in fear, in pain. If she could get him back, even if it took her death, it would be worth it.

She was going, and she was going alone.

….

Emma woke from her doze as she felt the bed sag under the weight of her husband getting in. She rolled over and looked at him in the uncertain light of the fire. He was bare to the waist. He quietly unfastened and removed the brace to which he attached his hook and set it on the bedside table.

"Thought you were never coming to bed tonight, Killian," she said sleepily.

He looked down at her in chagrin. "Didn't mean to wake you love; I know you've been feeling a bit poorly lately."

Emma snuggled into him, wrapping her arms around his waist, laying her head above his heart. "You didn't wake me. I was just kind of dozing. I don't know what's wrong with me lately; no matter how much I sleep, I still feel tired."

"Probably just trying to adjust to the Enchanted Forest, I supposed," he said, gently kissing her hair.

"I guess," she said skeptically. She hadn't reacted like this the last two times she was in the Enchanted Forest. Nor had she had a nagging sour stomach driving her nuts. Mentally she shrugged. Must have gotten a stomach flu or something.

"Killian," she said, absently stroking his back.

"Aye?"

"Does Regina seem a little, I don't know, _off_ to you?"

He was silent for a moment, probably pondering her question. "Off in what way?" he asked finally.

"It's like something is bothering her; like she's worried or something."

Killian shrugged. "I'd wager the situation with Robin is weighing on her heavily, and there is the lad we've yet to find."

"Yeah," she said. "But it's more than that. I saw Regina just after Robin woke up. She was upset, yeah, but not like this. She's been pale as death over the week since that happened. Something is definitely up; something she doesn't want the rest of us to know about."

"Have you any theories as to what that might be, lass?"

Emma was silent for a moment, thinking, enjoying the soothing sensation of Killian running his fingers through her hair. Finally she shook her head.

"I just don't know. We're all on the same team here. What wouldn't she want to tell us?"

Killian leaned down and kissed the nape of her neck. She tilted her head back to give him fuller access. "Well there's naught we can do about it tonight, Emma."

"Yeah, I guess that's true, but just…help me keep an eye on her, won't you? I have a bad feeling about this."

"Aye, as you wish, love," he said in the voice that never failed to send delicious shivers down her spine. "But let's put the topic aside for tonight, aye? I've a wish to discuss more important topics."

She saw the wicked sparkle in his eye.

"And just what might those 'more important' topics be, pirate?"

He leaned down and whispered some suggestions that had her blushing to the roots of her hair.

She shook her head. "Don't think I could go for that, Killian."

He looked taken aback. "And why not, love?"

She grinned wickedly. "I don't want to talk about it; I want a demonstration."

Emma laughed at the surprised look on his face. Had she actually rendered him speechless?

He recovered quickly, grinned down at her and then proceeded to kiss her until she couldn't see straight. "Lucky for you lass, I am quite apt at demonstration."

….

Killian heard a noise in the hallway early the next morning. So early, in fact that the sun had not yet come made an appearance. He eased out of the bed, careful not to disturb Emma. Slowly, he opened the door and peered out.

Through the faintly flickering light of the wall sconces, he made out a woman walking swiftly toward the stairs. _Regina_.

Killian silently closed the door and hastily donned his clothing. Emma's troubled questions of the night before nagged at him. He'd scarcely had a thought in the past week but for his wife, but now that she mentioned it, Regina _had _been acting peculiarly. There was worry and sadness, aye, but there was something else as well. Resolve. He'd bet the _Jolly _the queen was preparing to put a plan into action.

Padding over to the bed, Killian leaned over and gently shook his wife. "Emma, love, wake up."

The lass mumbled something, turned over and slept on. He shook her again; she groaned and finally opened bleary eyes.

"Hook, if this isn't important I'm going to murder you," she said grumpily.

He grinned. "It would be a shame to make yourself a widow before you've even been a wife for a month, Swan."

She frowned up at him. Killian sighed

"It's Regina," he said finally. "I just saw her sneaking out of the castle."

Emma's frown disappeared, replaced by curiosity. She jumped out of bed and began throwing on clothing. "We need to know what's up. Let's follow her."

….

Half an hour before dawn on the day she was to meet Roland's abductor, Regina rose from her seat by the bed and leaned over Robin.

"I love you," she whispered, bending down to brush her lips against the sleeping man's brow. "Whatever's in store for me know that. I love you and I love Roland."

Taking one last look at the man she may never see again, Regina turned deliberately away and walked through the door.

Questions plagued her. Who had sent the note? Who was so desperate to punish her for the crimes she'd committed against him that he'd kidnap an innocent little boy? Unfortunately, Regina had to admit the list of possibilities was probably pretty long. Her quest for vengeance had left many victims in her wake.

Would he kill her, this unknown foe? If so, she hoped it was quick and clean. She didn't relish a long drawn out death involving torture and pain. Even so, if that's what it took to get Roland back, she would do it, unflinchingly.

It was cool this morning, a dense fog hovered near the ground, shrouding her feet and ankles. It was eerie weather, and strangely fitting for the sacrifice she was prepared to make.

A twig snapped behind her, and Regina froze, heart pounding. "Is someone there?" she asked. The smallness and fragility of her voice annoyed her, and she rose to her full height. "Show yourself; don't slink among the forest like a coward!" Her voice was much steadier this time. _Good_.

Regina waited long moments, but no other sound was heard. Perhaps it was nothing more than a woodland animal. She was so keyed up about what was going to happen that she was jumping at shadows.

It took twenty minutes to walk to the shore. The first faint blush of color was starting to tint the sky as Regina stepped onto the firm, wet sand. Regina looked from side to side. The kidnapper was either hiding or he'd yet to arrive.

Regina paced the shore line for what felt like hours. Her shoes and the hem of her dress became drenched in the salty water of the tide as it ebbed and flowed. She was just beginning to wonder if the man would show at all when she suddenly noticed a movement from out at sea. A man gradually emerged from beneath the water, walking forward until he was standing right next to her.

Regina gasped. _Blackbeard!_

He chuckled humorlessly. "Surprised to see me your majesty?"

"You're…you're here!"

"In the flesh," he said with a mocking bow. "Well, in a manner of speaking."

It was true. He looked more like a ghost than a living, breathing person. He had a slightly spectral appearance, and if she looked very closely, she could see through him in places.

"What happened to you?" she asked quietly.

"You ought to know," he said angrily. "You're the one who sold me to the witch who did this to me."

"I'm…I'm sorry," Regina said in a small voice. She didn't know who she'd been expecting to see, but Blackbeard was not it.

He laughed, the sound harsh and grating. "The Evil Queen apologizing for her deeds of vengeance and barbarity? Forgive me if I question your sincerity."

That snapped her out of it, brought her ire to the fore. This ghost-man before her might have her fate in the palm of his hand, but he damn well wasn't going to take her out cowering.

"Whether you believe me or not is irrelevant," she said haughtily. "I'm here per the terms of your ransom note. Where's Roland?"

"Safe," Blackbeard said. "You came alone? With no weapons?"

Regina spread her arms wide showing her completely unarmed state. "What would you care if I brought weapons? Ghosts can't be affected by them, can they?"

"Oh I assure you, my lady, I am not a ghost, but you are correct. Guns and swords would not faze me."

"I'll ask you again," Regina said, a slight edge to her voice this time. "Where's Roland?"

"Surrender to me and he will be returned to his father," he said.

"And if I refuse to surrender before I see him safely returned to his father, whole and unharmed?"

"Do you really want to take the chance that I won't harm him if you refuse?" he asked nastily.

She dropped her eyes. "Well get on with it then," she said briskly. "Whatever you plan to do to me. Get on with it!"

He smiled humorlessly. "With pleasure."

But he didn't move.

"So what _are _you planning to do to me?" Regina asked in a bored voice. "Kill me?"

"Oh no, no, no, my dear queen," Blackbeard said with a chuckle, "not _kill_ you. Death would be far too easy a fate. No, I plan to do no more and no less than you did to me. I'm going to give you to _her._"

Regina gasped and took an inadvertent step backward.

"Oh don't tell me you plan to go back on our agreement," he taunted.

She stepped forward, tall and proud. "No. The deal stands."

"Excellent," he said. "Now come here and let me drown you."

With a deep breath, Regina took a step forward, and then white light erupted around her. Something resembling a bubble surrounded her on all sides. Someone had cast a protection spell over her.

"Hook!" she heard Blackbeard yell in shock and something else. Anger?

"It cannot be!" she heard the one-handed pirate himself breathe.

Regina looked around, and sure enough there they were, Mrs. Jones and her faithful sidekick.

_No! They couldn't be here! They couldn't stop her! She had to save Roland!_

Regina raised her hands, concentrated hard, and tried to take down the shield. Nothing happened. Damn! Emma's powers must have grown stronger with her marriage.

Helplessly, Regina looked around at the scene around her. Both pirates were advancing on each other, Hook with a sword drawn.

"No, Killiian!" Emma shouted, casting a protection spell over her husband. "Swords won't touch him."

Emma turned toward Blackbeard, her hands out-stretched. "It's over," she said firmly. "You've lost. It's time to give yourself up."

Blackbeard laughed derisively. "Never!" he spat. With that, he dove beneath the waves and disappeared from sight.

Emma took down the protection spells, and for a moment, no one moved, and then Killian reached for Emma, holding her so tightly she could probably barely breathe.

Regina moved forward slowly, clenching and unclenching her fists, trying desperately to get a handle on her anger and fear. When she reached the couple, they pulled apart, but Killian kept an arm around his wife's waist.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing, following me here like that?" Regina said in a voice shaking with rage.

The smile slid from Emma's face. "Oh, I don't know," she said sarcastically, "saving your life?"

"I didn't want you to save it!" Regina shrieked. "Now that monster will…If he harms so much as a _hair_ on Roland's head, I'm holding you personally responsible."

With that, Regina turned on her heels, stalked back to the castle, and left the Joneses in her wake.

_Notes:_

_-The back-in-time section was obviously inspired by events in 3x6. Here you see why Regina sells Blackbeard to Ursula._

_-In the present section, Regina sacrifices herself. While that's certainly a noble objective, I'm glad Killian and Emma got there in time to stop her._

_-With that, this story hits the half-way mark!_

_-Up next: A year and a half or so before the curse, Anne realizes her night as "Tiger Lily," has long-reaching consequences. In the present day section, Eric and Ariel show up and the gang learns that Blackbeard isn't the only villain they need to be concerned about. Also, Killian and Emma make a startling discovery._


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

_Enchanted Forest, about 2 years before the first curse_

"Miss Teach, might I have this dance?"

Anne looked up from her seat along the wall of the ballroom and found herself greeted by soft brown hair and warm green eyes. He leaned slightly toward her and held out his hand.

"Indeed, Mr. Elliott," Anne said demurely, taking the proffered appendage, "you may."

Mr. Elliott was a handsome enough man, she thought listlessly. His features were perfectly pleasant. _But he doesn't hold a candle to…him._

Anne ruthlessly shoved those thoughts aside as she pasted what she hoped was a convincing smile on her face. She could not think of Captain Hook tonight. She simply could not. She suspected Mr. Elliott meant to propose during the course of the ball Miss Hornigold had thrown in honor of her nineteenth birthday, and if he did, she was determined to accept. No thoughts of the dashing scoundrel who had stolen her heart some six weeks ago were to be permitted tonight.

As Mr. Elliott guided her expertly through the waltz, holding her close, but not so close as to be improper, Anne's thoughts flitted back to that fateful night in spite of her best intentions.

He hadn't wanted her. He'd rejected her. Even after the tender passionate night they'd shared. Even after she'd shared her body, her heart, her very soul with him. Even after she'd told him she loved him. He'd rejected her, sent her away with a callousness she wouldn't soon forget. No, it was worse than that. He'd tossed her money for her "services" as though she were nothing but a common whore.

The anger had carried her off his ship, back to the woods where she donned her proper clothing, and back to Miss Hornigold's house. But no sooner had she regained her bedroom than the anger had seeped out and the hard, unremitting pain had rushed in.

Over the next few weeks, Anne had cried more tears than she'd ever cried in her life. Some nights she would dream of him—him coming to her, telling her it was all a mistake, that he couldn't live without her. Him offering her his hand, wedding her, setting sail with her, never to be parted. She would awaken from these dreams, and as reality settled in, the pain would cover her, well-nigh unbearable.

Miss Hornigold had worried about her, fretting over her pallor, over her refusal to eat more than a few bites at any meal, over her listlessness and tiredness. More than once she'd suggested a healer be consulted, but Anne always refused. There was no cure for what ailed her, no potion or tonic for a broken heart.

Meanwhile, broken-hearted or not, life went on. Thoroughly cured of her desire for adventure, finally understanding Miss Hornigold's insistence that she guard her heart and behave with decorum around young men, Anne became the model ward. She accepted everything Miss Hornigold sent her way. Talking, laughing, encouraging the young men who came to call, acting the perfect hostess, being calm and collected and demure.

Of all the string of suitors who had come to call, only Mr. Elliott had continued to pursue her, the others eventually becoming put out by her sadness, her woodenness. Anne suspected Mr. Elliott's motives for continuing his courtship of her had more to do with the money she stood to inherit than with any tender feelings for her, but it didn't matter. He would provide her with a comfortable home. He would be kind to her.

And so when Miss Hornigold had informed her she was throwing this ball for her, Anne had dressed carefully in a beautiful blue gown that perfectly matched her eyes. She'd curled and pinned and styled her hair in a way that framed her face most becomingly. Tonight, she meant to become engaged, and she wished to look her best for the occasion.

"Forgive me, Miss Teach, but are you feeling quite well?" Mr. Elliott asked in concern. "You're flushed."

_No, I'm not quite well. I'll never be quite well again._

"I'm most grateful for your concern," Anne said calmly, "but there is naught the matter with me. I'm a bit overheated in this crowded room; that is all."

"Perhaps we should retire to the balcony," he suggested. "The cool, night air will revive you."

"Aye," Anne said slowly, "perhaps a bit of air would be welcome."

Now that he mentioned it, she did feel strange—somehow flushed and cold all at once, lightheaded. Her head swam with dizziness, and she clutched Mr. Elliott's arm so tightly he would likely have a bruise.

"Miss Hornigold!" he said in genuine alarm.

"I…" she hardly knew what she meant to say, but it hardly mattered. The darkness pulled her under before another word could be uttered.

….

When Anne awoke, she was in the parlor lying on one of Miss Hornigold's elaborate fainting couches. Miss Hornigold, Mr. Elliott, and Miss Hornigold's personal physician looked down on her with concerned expressions.

"Are you in pain, Miss Teach?" the kindly old healer asked solicitously.

"No," she answered woodenly. _Not physical pain anyway_.

"Would you allow me to conduct a more thorough examination?"

"Indeed she would!" Miss Hornigold said sternly. "Now, Anne, no excuses this time. You are unwell, and I insist you allow the doctor to attend to you."

"And I must add my insistence to your benefactress's," Mr. Elliott said gently.

"Very well," Anne said with a small nod.

The healer ushered Miss Hornigold and Mr. Elliott from the room, then poked, prodded and questioned until Anne nearly went crazy. As the moments went on, the old man became increasingly more and more grave. Had she been mistaken? Was there something seriously the matter with her? Finally, the man's examination came to an end.

He washed his hands, went to the parlor door, and called Miss Hornigold back in. After a moment, he ushered Mr. Elliott in as well.

"I believe you should hear this, sir," he said, a frown of disapproval marring his face.

_What could the diagnosis be that required both her benefactress and her suitor to be present to hear?_

The healer gave Mr. Elliott a stern glare, and then turned accusing eyes to Anne herself.

"Miss Teach," he said simply. "You are with child."

….

Anne sat primly on the most uncomfortable chair in the parlor early the next morning, anxiety eating at her. Miss Hornigold had summoned her as soon as she'd awoken, and Anne knew she was about to receive her benefactress's full wrath.

Last night after the healer made his startling pronouncement, Anne had chanced a look at Mr. Elliott. He'd thrown her a look of deepest disgust, turned around and walked out. Anne knew without a doubt that she'd just lost any hope she had of wedding the pleasing young man. As for Miss Hornigold, she had gasped and stood stock still, mouth gaping in a most unladylike manner.

Anne couldn't take it in, herself. "Pardon me," she said in a faint voice. "Y…you said I'm _what_?"

"With child, madam," the doctor said with clear disapproval.

Anne wanted to deny it, wanted to protest. She couldn't be! It was only one night! She'd committed only one indiscretion! She _couldn't_ be with child.

And then the full weight of her situation closed over her. She was unmarried and with child. No man in Miss Hornigold's high society circle would ever want her now. She was ruined!

She went hot and then cold as yet another thought crossed her mind. What would Edward say? She stood quickly, not knowing where she planned to go.

"Ex…excuse me," she said faintly, "I…I…" and then she fled. She veritably ran to her room, shut the door, and fell sobbing onto her bed.

Anne had half expected Miss Hornigold to follow her, barge into her room, demand an explanation, and then kill her slowly, but it hadn't happened. She'd neither seen nor heard the woman throughout the entirety of her agonizing sleepless night. It was only with the dawn that the summons came.

"I would like to ask you a few questions," Miss Hornigold said primly. Too primly. Miss Hornigold never got that frostily prim unless she was _furious_.

"Very well," Anne said in a tremulous voice.

"Were you assaulted? Did a man force you against your will?"

Anne looked down, studying the paisley pattern of the area rug at her feet. "No, Miss Hornigold."

"Then explain to me," Miss Hornigold said in a seething voice, "how a young woman of good repute, of means, of excellent moral upbringing finds herself unmarried and _with child_! Did Mr. Elliott take advantage of you?"

Anne couldn't speak over the lump in her throat. After a moment she simply shook her head.

"Explain yourself!" Miss Hornigold shouted. Anne stared at her in shock. Miss Hornigold _never_ shouted.

"It was last month," Anne began in a small voice, "I didn't go to the country to stay with friends after all."

And then the whole sordid tale came out.

"And so," Anne finished, "in the morning he sent me away."

Miss Hornigold's mouth was so tight she must be in pain. "You've ruined yourself, you stupid girl! No one will want you after this! No man will want your bastard child."

"I know."

"I shall send a servant to your room immediately. He will help you pack your things."

Anne looked up. "Why?"

Miss Hornigold scoffed. "Surely you don't think you can stay here after this? I am a respectable woman. I cannot allow a young woman of ill repute to live in my home any longer."

Anne drew in a sharp breath. "But Miss Hornigold! Where shall I go? What shall I do?"

"Perhaps," the older woman said in a voice dripping with scorn, "you should have thought of that before spreading your legs for a handsome stranger. I will provide you with sufficient funds to see you through the next month, but know this. You will be off these premises by nightfall or my name is not Phyllis Hornigold."

….

_Six months later_

Edward took the in stairs two at a time, hoping, praying this was not yet another dead end. He stopped outside the first door on the left and softly knocked. He heard the shuffling of feet, and then the door was opened. A motherly woman opened the door, and after a moment he recognized her as his first mate, Smythe's wife.

"Is she here, Mrs. Smythe?" he asked intently.

The woman stepped outside and closed the door softly. "Aye," she said gravely, "but you must prepare yourself, Captain. You will find her much altered."

She would be seven-months along now, maybe more, if Hornigold's estimates were correct. No doubt she would be much altered.

Edward nodded, and then opened the door. His eyes scanned the room and finally came to rest on the wan, frail creature lying on the bed. Could that be Anne? Could that be his beautiful, rosy sister? The young woman lying there listlessly was little more than a skeleton. Only the soft rounding of her belly gave evidence she was indeed still encased in flesh and blood.

A deep wracking cough issued from the bed. It went on and on until Anne could barely breathe. Edward rushed to her, raised her to a seated position, and gave her small sips of water until she recovered.

"Edward!" she said weakly, her fever-dulled eyes lighting up at the sight of him. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Hush, Annie-girl," he said around the lump in his throat. "Do not try to talk, you'll tire yourself."

Mrs. Smythe bustled into the room and began mixing a healing potion.

"My man found her three days ago, Captain," she said. "Out on the street she was. Soaked and chilled to the bone. The physician had a look, and I'm afraid the news is bad. Pneumonia in both lungs."

One small tear leaked out of Anne's closed eye, and Edward gently wiped it away with his thumb.

"What's being done for her?"

Mrs. Smythe gave him a quick, pitying look. It chilled Edward to the marrow of his bones. "We're doing all we can, Captain, but it would be best to prepare yourself."

"Prepare myself for what?" Edward asked, fear nearly closing his throat.

"It's a bad case. The illness is exacerbated by her delicate condition and severe malnourishment. The physician does not believe she will survive the night."

"No!" The single syllable ripped from his throat.

Anne reached out and took his hand.

"Why, Anne?" he asked hoarsely. "Why didn't you send for me? Why didn't you tell me? I would have come from the ends of the earth to help you!"

Anne coughed, and then took a deep breath. "Didn't want you to be ashamed of me. Didn't want you to disown me. Didn't want you to hate me."

"Anne!" Edward said in true distress. "I could never hate you. I could never be ashamed of you! You're my sister, girl; the only family I have left on this earth."

She nodded, and then began shivering. Edward put a cold cloth on her forehead and tucked the blankets more firmly around her. Anne drifted off.

Nearly half a year ago, Edward had received a letter from Hornigold telling him what had happened. When he learned that Miss Hornigold had turned his young, helpless, pregnant sister out on the streets, his rage had been beyond anything he'd experienced. It was only regard for Hornigold that kept him from murdering the perfidious old shrew in cold blood. As it was, he'd yelled at the old woman loudly and profanely enough it was a wonder she had any hearing left. What kind of woman sends a girl out to starve because they committed one sin?

Edward had stormed from Miss Hornigold's house and commenced turning the realm inside out looking for Anne. It was only a few days ago, when Smythe told him of the girl at the inn that he'd had any success at all.

Anne's blue eyes opened and fastened on Edward.

"I'm glad you came. I missed you," she said contentedly.

"I am too, Annie-girl," he said, running calloused fingers through her hair. "Tell me what happened? Tell me who did this to you."

Her breathing was becoming labored, but she told him in short choppy sentences of "Tiger Lily" meeting Captain Hook. She said enough to let Edward know the bloody captain had taken advantage of her trust, her innocence. Rage began to build inside him, but he tamped it down. Anne needed his love now, not his vengeance.

As the story wound down, Anne began to cry, and Edward took her into his arms. "Hush, Anne," he said brokenly. "It's over now. Rest. Let's focus on getting you well, and then we can sort out the rest of it."

But it was not to be. Shortly before midnight that night, Anne passed away, the tiny child inside going as well. Edward grieved silently over the still, cold body, tears slipping down his weathered face. And then the rage returned. Captain Hook would pay for his crimes. Aye, he would pay dearly!

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

"It looks like it's finally starting to heal," Regina said, winding a bandage around the long wound on Robin's forearm. "For a while I didn't know if it ever would."

Robin laughed, "Neither did I, my lady. Does this mean I can be up and about soon?"

Regina took her time putting away the unused bandage material. "I don't know. I'll talk to the healers for you, but don't get your hopes up. You still get dizzy whenever you try to stand, and it will be some time before your leg will be fit to walk on."

Three weeks had passed since Regina's failed attempt to get Roland back. Three long, boring, uneventful, _agonizing_ weeks. They'd heard nothing from or about Blackbeard since then.

While they all worked to find a solution to the crisis at hand, Regina tried to keep herself occupied by caring for Robin and keeping his spirits up. He was almost embarrassingly grateful to her for her ministrations, and he genuinely seemed to enjoy her company. He still hadn't regained his memory, but otherwise his wounds were healing.

"How about another tale, Regina?" Robin asked, leaning back against his pillow.

She gave him a playful grin. "Oh no, Robin; not this time. It's your turn to tell _me _a story. I swore I wouldn't tell you any more until you reciprocated, and I'm a woman of my word."

He grimaced playfully. "You're a hard-hearted woman, that's what you are. Insisting a man with a head wound invent a story for you."

She took his hand and laced her fingers with his, in the moment of banter forgetting that this Robin didn't remember the two of them sharing these small intimacies. He looked startled for a moment, but didn't pull away.

"No need to invent one, outlaw," Regina said playfully. "I've no doubt you've got plenty of yarns you can spin about the Merry Men."

Robin laughed. "I remember one time when Marian…"

Slowly his smile faltered and he gently pulled his hand back. Regina saw the raw pain on his face, and she hurt for him.

"You and the healers tell me it's been seven years since I lost my Marian, but it still feels like yesterday."

They had indeed told him the truth about his situation a few days after he'd awoken. The healers had hoped talking about it would jog his memory and aid him in his recovery. Unfortunately, the news seemed to have the opposite effect. Robin's distress at hearing his baby was now a little boy—a little boy who'd been kidnapped—had been so severe, he'd suffered something of a relapse. Infection and fever had set in again, and for a few terrible days, Regina had feared they'd lose him.

"It won't always hurt so badly," she said gently.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"I lost someone I loved too," she said softly.

"How did you deal with his loss?"

"Not well," she said grimacing. This Robin still knew her as Regina the nurse. She was terrified of the day he realized she was actually Regina the Evil Queen. As fresh as his grief seemed to him, there was no telling how violently he would reject her when he found out.

"But you survived," he stated, placing his rough hand on top of hers.

Regina nodded. "I survived." She took a chance and looked into his eyes. "I did, and I even learned, eventually, that I could love again."

He held her gaze, his expression neutral. Did he understand what she was telling him? Was the Robin who had fallen in love with her back in Tuck's cottage still inside of him somewhere?

"I'm glad for you Regina," he said finally, his eyes tender. "I hope the man you love realizes how lucky he is."

Regina smiled sadly. "It's I who was the lucky one."

A knock sounded at the door, and one of the healers appeared.

"There appears to be some sort of commotion below, my lady, and Queen Snow has requested your presence. I would be honored to sit with the gentleman while you attend to it."

_Now what?_

"Thank you," she said, getting stiffly from her chair. "I appreciate your kindness."

By the time she reached the great hall, she could tell the healer wasn't exaggerating about the commotion. The whole Storybrooke contingent seemed to be gathered around the large table, talking and laughing and gesticulating.

Snow caught her eye and got awkwardly to her feet and rushed to her. "Regina! Look who's here!"

Regina scanned the table again and noticed the two newcomers. Ariel and…was that Prince Erik? How had he gotten here?

"Regina," the perky red-head said, getting to her feet, "how are you?"

Regina shrugged. "Surviving, I guess. When did you get here, and how the hell did you bring your boyfriend?"

Ariel giggled and reached for Erik. He rose and laced his hand with hers. "Well, to be precise, Your Majesty, I'm not her boyfriend. I'm her fiancé!"

There was a cheer and loud congratulations from the Charmings, from Belle, even from the Joneses. Only Rumple maintained a slightly mocking smile.

"I guess congratulations are in order," Regina mumbled. Perhaps it was rude to show so little enthusiasm, but she just couldn't muster it today. Ever since she'd failed to ransom Roland, all the world looked bleak and gray.

Ariel evidently didn't note the lack of warmth in Regina's voice. "Thanks," she said warmly.

Belle wandered over demanding to see the ring. "When's the wedding?"

"Perhaps a better question, dearie is 'Where's the wedding'," Rumple said. "Given that it's to be a mixed species union will it be on land or under sea?"

"And we thought we had difficulties coming from different realms and different centuries, love," Killian quipped.

Emma giggled. She actually giggled. Oh how Regina missed the slightly bitter, walled-up woman Miss Swan used to be!

Erik wrapped his arm around his fiancée's shoulders. "Truthfully, it was that very difficulty that caused the delay in our engagement. I would have asked Ariel to marry me the minute she returned to Storybrooke if I'd had my way."

The mermaid, now on legs, smiled adoringly up at him, and touched his cheek. "And I would have said yes before the question was even out of your mouth!"

"But there was the difficulty of our worlds," Erik continued. "I couldn't live in the sea, and I was hesitant to ask Ariel to give up her family, her whole life."

"And I couldn't talk him out of his nobility!" Ariel said with a laugh.

"How did you work it out?" Belle asked.

Ariel raised her arm, and Regina saw the cuff she'd given her so long ago.

"Thanks to Regina, I can change from a mermaid to a woman at will," she explained. "and I realized that maybe it could work on Erik as well."

"You agreed to become a _merman_, mate?" Killian asked with a smirk.

"For true love, a man would do nearly anything," Erik answered.

"Quite true," Killian answered with a smile in his wife's direction.

"Anyway," Ariel said taking her seat and going back to her breakfast, "thanks to this cuff Erik was able to swim with me from the Land Without Magic to my father's kingdom here in the Enchanted Forest."

"We've decided to live on land, primarily," Erik explained. "I do have a kingdom to run, after all, but we'll don our tales from time to time in order to visit Ariel's family."

There was a lull in the conversation, and then Ariel sobered. "I'm glad you got my letter. I'm glad you all made it here."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Snow White asked gently. "Why did you deliver the letter secretly rather than making sure it ended up in Regina's hand?"

Guilt crossed Ariel's featured, and she delicately shrugged her shoulders. Erik wrapped his arm round her.

"Everyone was so busy with Emma and Killian's wedding," Ariel said finally. "There was no time, and I didn't want to mar your happy day."

"I appreciate that," Emma murmured, then under her breath "too bad others didn't feel that way about the wedding night."

"Besides," Ariel continued, ignoring Emma, "my mind was kind of occupied. Things weren't going well in my father's kingdom, and I was worried about what might be happening…especially with the attack on the Merry Men. It seemed like far too much of a coincidence."

"What's wrong in Triton's kingdom, dearie?"

Ariel shrugged again. "Things have been quiet again for the last few weeks, but I just don't know. My father said there have been strange creatures about. They're not merpeople—they almost seem like humans, but that's impossible. No human could survive underwater."

Emma and Killian shared a glance. "As it happens, lass," Killian said, "it's far less impossible than you would think."

"What do you mean?"

"A few weeks ago, we discovered it was Blackbeard who attacked the Merry Men and kidnapped young Roland."

"Blackbeard?" Erik asked, tensing. "One of the most vicious pirates in the realm?"

"Aye," Killian said with a nod, "the very one."

"Only he's not one of the most vicious pirates in the realm anymore," Belle said, "but rather one of the most vicious pirates under the sea."

"It seems Regina gave him to Ursula in exchange for info on Snow," Emma said.

"Ursula," Ariel breathed. "My father feared she was behind the multiple thefts he's had to deal with lately."

"But why would Ursula go to the trouble of taking pirates?" Prince Charming asked. "She's the sea witch; couldn't she have gotten whatever trinkets she wanted on her own?"

"Not everything," Rumple said ominously. "If Ursula is sending human pirates to Triton's kingdom to steal for her, I think we need to accept that we're in for a far bigger fight than we realized."

"Why's that?" Emma asked.

"There's only one thing Ursula could want so badly that she would go to the trouble of kidnapping land dwellers," Rumple continued. "The most magical object in all the realms, Triton's trident."

Regina gasped, suddenly seeing the horrifying situation before them. "And if Ursula gets the trident," she said, "there's not a person or a realm on this earth that would be safe from her greed and treachery."

"Precisely," Rumple agreed with a grim nod.

….

Emma's stomach rolled, and she rose quickly from the bed. This was getting old; this was getting _really_ old. She hurried to the garderobe at the end of the hall and promptly lost last night's dinner. Wiping her mouth, she crept silently back to bed.

"Emma?" Killian asked, holding up the covers so she could crawl back underneath, "are you alright love?"

"I don't know," she said with a sigh. "I just can't shake this stomach bug. It's been weeks! I'm starting to wonder if I'm ever again going to wake up without feeling like my stomach is trying to turn itself inside out."

"Aye," Killian said, wrapping his arm around her, "you will, but perhaps it's time we consider the possibility that you aren't suffering from a stomach bug at all."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you think I have scurvy or some other nasty pirate illness."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Killian said laughing. "But think of it, lass. You're quite nauseated, you're tired past the point of exhaustion, you even fainted last week."

Emma groaned. "Don't remind me. I doubt Rumple's ever going to let me live it down."

"Well, if he should become too obnoxious, come to me, lass. I'm more than capable of reinstating our feud."

"You would, too," she said dryly.

"Anything to protect my lady wife's honor," he said. She swatted his arm.

Killian returned to the topic at hand. "I also know you've not bled since we were married."

Emma froze. Was he suggesting what she thought he was suggesting?"

"Yeah," she said slowly, "I am a good two weeks late for my period. I just chalked it up to the stress and craziness of everything going on around here."

Killian turned her so she was lying on her back then rested his hand on her belly. "Perhaps, love, there is another answer; perhaps you're with child."

"But…but" Emma sputtered. "It's not time yet. We've only been married a month. We _can't_ be pregnant!"

Killian kissed her softly. "Can't we? We've hardly been celibate, Swan."

That was true; since Camelot, they'd gone at it every chance they got. "But with Blackbeard and Ursula on the loose…the timing is terrible."

He smiled gently. "Some little ones fail to take considerations of timing into account, I'm afraid. They come when they will."

"Our baby is already being a rebel," Emma said with a smile, "I wouldn't expect anything less of your kid, Killian."

"Looks like you've got a little pirate in you, Swan."

She swatted his arm again, and then laid back against the pillows, thinking it over. A baby! Was she really going to have a baby? She thought back to those days before she learned she was carrying Henry. The nausea, the fatigue, it was all there. She doubted there were any such things as pregnancy tests in this realm, but she doubted she needed one. She knew Killian was right; she was pregnant.

"Are you happy love?" Killian asked hesitantly.

She thought for a moment and then let the smile bloom on her face. "Yeah, I am. It isn't the way I would have planned it, but…a baby! We're going to have a baby!"

Killian hugged her, tears in his eyes. "That we are, my love. That we are. I can hardly take it in. I'm to be a father!"

Emma smiled tenderly, and cupped his cheek. "Our baby is going to be lucky to have you. You'll make a wonderful father."

He smiled and then moved so his face was level with her stomach, bending down, he kissed the skin over which his child rested.

"Hello, little one," he said gently, "I'm your papa."

_Notes:_

_-Well, that was a LONG chapter, but there was a lot to tell!_

_-The back in time section was just flat out depressing! I feel terrible for Anne (and Edward), and I rather think Edward let Miss Hornigold off too easily with just a severe tongue lashing. So now you understand just why Blackbeard is out for Hook's blood. I can't really blame him for his anger after what happened to his sister, but hopefully he, like Killian himself, will learn that vengeance simply isn't the answer._

_-Erik and Ariel come to some interesting compromises, and Emma's pregnant! I thought it would be interesting to pair (and contrast) Anne finding out about her pregnancy with Emma finding out about hers. Let's hope things work out better for Emma than they did for Anne!_

_-Couldn't resist the whole "you've got a little pirate in you, Swan," line. Ever since he said it in the finale, I've known I wanted to use it in relation to a Captain Swan pregnancy._

_-One quick vocabulary note: you might have been able to figure it out from context clues, but a garderobe is a bathroom they had in medieval castles. It was basically an outhouse situated in the corner of a castle._

_-Up next: Not quite a year before the first curse, Regina sets out to find Ursula a pirate captain. (Luckily for us, Hook is otherwise engaged at the moment). She comes up with an interesting solution to her problem. In the present, Blackbeard gets word of Erik and Ariel's upcoming wedding and has some suggestions about how Ursula could use that to her advantage. He also "delivers" another letter. Meanwhile, Robin remembers bits and pieces of his old life, and he finds out Regina's true identity. How will he take the news?_


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

_Enchanted Forest about a year before the 1__st__ curse_

"Guards!" Regina called hoarsely. That damn sea witch must have bruised her throat; her voice had been shot for the past week.

"Yes, my queen," a man said getting to one knee and bowing his head in submission.

"Ready my carriage," Regina said as imperiously as she could through her scratchy throat. "We ride for the mines immediately."

The man nodded his ascent and rushed to do her bidding. Regina chose a black dress with a high collar—one that would cover the ugly purple bruises on her neck—and then headed for the door.

A week had passed and she'd yet to come up with a single idea for finding and trapping a pirate captain. Who did she know who would fit the bill? Hook was the obvious choice; his all-consuming vengeance would make him easy to capture, but she'd rejected the idea almost immediately. The fact that he was so malleable left Regina wondering if he might become useful to her at some point.

The very night after Ursula's unmannerly visit, he had become just that. She'd caught him breaking into her tower, attempting to pump Belle for information about Rumple. She'd considered giving him to Ursula, but then she realized he could be useful in another capacity. She'd sent him to Wonderland to kill and retrieve her mother. No sense having any loose ends out there when the curse was enacted.

But with Hook currently in Wonderland, that left Regina with no options. She didn't even _know_ any other pirate captains, let alone have a credible way to trap them.

There was nothing for it. She needed to pay Rumple a visit.

The imp had seemed somehow both more unhinged and more cunning ever since he'd been captured and imprisoned in the mines. He drove her crazy, but she knew better than to antagonize him. For one thing, he was her source of information about the curse. For another…well, crazy or not, the man had a long memory and a short fuse.

A guard led Regina through the final winding steps to the underground prison. Rumple was nowhere in sight.

"Rumple!" Regina demanded imperiously. "Where the hell are you?"

A cackle came from the ceiling, and then the imp, himself, crawled spider-like from the ceiling.

"Language, language," he taunted in a sing-song voice.

Regina rolled her eyes.

"I have a problem," Regina said simply.

He giggled again. "Well I could have told you that, dearie."

Regina took a deep breath reminding herself she _needed_ this creature.

"To be precise," she said, "I have a little sea witch problem."

"Ah," he said raising one sparky golden finger in the air. "So you've met Ursula!"

Regina unconsciously massaged her neck. "I have indeed had the misfortune of meeting her."

"And being bested by her, I'd say."

Regina glared. "No one bests me. Not even you, you malevolent imp!"

"If it is my aid you need, you'll be kind in word and deed." Rumple chanted, tipping his head from side to side.

Regina sighed again. "Ursula demanded I provided her with a pirate captain for her collection."

Rumple giggled. "Then a pirate captain you must give her. Might I suggest a certain one-handed, adulterous _coward_ who just returned from Neverland."

"I've already sent him on a mission of my own."

"Shame," Rumple said.

"So how, precisely do I get my hands on a pirate captain."

"Well you could always become a pirate and join a crew."

Regina stepped forward and grabbed the bars. "When I cast this curse, your life will be in my hands. I can make your life in the new land a living hell. Tell me what I need to know."

"Oh you won't," Rumple said, "but I'll humor you anyway. If it's a pirate you desire, try your mermaid with hair of fire."

"Ariel?"

"Yes," Rumple said clapping his hands gleefully.

"I doubt she's likely to help me after the last fiasco."

"Think, dearie!" Rumple said, pressing his golden face against the bars. "There's always a deal waiting to be made. What does Ariel want more than anything in the world?"

"Her prince."

"Exactly," Rumple said with a snap of his fingers. "Help her find her prince and the little fish will be yours to command."

….

The next morning, Regina went down to the beach. Just how did one call a mermaid—particularly a mermaid who likely detested you?

"Ariel," she said imperiously. "I have need of you."

Nothing. Not terribly surprising.

"You have need of me too."

Still nothing.

"What if I told you I could make your dreams come true? What if I could give you your precious Erik?"

After a moment, Regina saw a ripple in the water, and a moment later, a very disgruntled red-headed mermaid appeared on the surface. Ariel scowled and crossed her arms.

"I know I'm not your favorite person right now," Regina acknowledged, "but it would be worth your while to cooperate with me."

The mermaid merely glared at her.

"So you're just going to sit there silent? I'm the Evil Queen! Don't test me, mermaid! Show a little respect and have a reasonable adult conversation."

Ariel gave her a long look and then deliberately raised one hand and pointed to her throat.

_Oh right, she'd cursed her voice away._ Regina really needed to start keeping records of the people she cursed and what she'd cursed them with. She waved her hand and a wave of magic passed over Ariel.

"What makes you think I'd ever trust you, work with you again?" Ariel asked finally.

Regina waved her hand, and a mirror appeared. "Look closely," she said, holding the object down toward the water.

Ariel swam closer and peered into the mirror. A moment later she gasped. "Erik! It's Erik!"

"Indeed," Regina said, pulling her hand back. "Do you know what this is? This is an enchanted mirror on which I've placed a locator spell. Follow what this mirror shows you, and you will be taken directly to your prince."

Ariel reached forward, but Regina pulled her hand back. "Ah, ah, ah," she said with a mocking shake of her head. "This mirror is payment for services given. Help me with what I wish, and you shall find your prince. Refuse me, and you will die and become a moldy fish carcass before you manage to locate him. The choice is yours."

The mermaid cast the mirror a yearning look. "What do I have to do."

"Bring me a pirate captain. I have a…friend…who has need of one and she's insisted I get one for her."

"Just bring you a pirate captain?" Ariel asked skeptically. "That's all?"

"That's all. Just one, single, solitary pirate captain. The only stipulation is that he must be alive when you bring him."

"And then you'll give me the mirror?" Ariel asked.

Regina extended her hand toward the water. "Oh, no," she said smoothly, "to show that I'm sincere in wishing to make this a mutually beneficial relationship, I'll provide you with the mirror right now. Search for your prince _while_ you're searching for my captain. What's more, if you do this job for me, I'll produce another cuff, one that you can keep. Be a mermaid or a woman, whatever your Erik would prefer."

Ariel looked at her with brows furrowed and eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How do you know I'll keep my end of the bargain? How do you know I won't just take the mirror and leave you in the lurch?"

Regina bent down and glared at the mermaid malevolently. "I know because you value your pathetic little lover's life. Your Erik comes from a maritime kingdom, does he not? He spends long portions of time on the water?"

"Yes," Ariel said slowly, wariness painted across her face.

"Well, my dear little mermaid," Regina said nastily. "It just so happens I'm quite well connected. I happen to know someone who is more than capable of causing all manner of havoc on the seas." Regina stepped back and caressed the mirror. "It would be quite a shame if the handsome, valiant Prince Erik were to lose his life in some manner of aquatic 'accident'."

Ariel gasped, and then nodded firmly. "You have a deal. I'll get you your pirate captain."

_Waters off of the Enchanted Forest, present day_

Blackbeard paced his quarters, frustrated and agitated. Three weeks had passed and Ursula had yet to let him out of his prison. When he'd returned from his last mission, utterly unsuccessful, she'd flown into a rage.

"What do you mean, you had the queen but she escaped?" Ursula growled.

"Just that," Blackbeard said. "I had her. She was within my grasp, and then her friends came to her aid."

"How the hell did a couple _humans_ manage to best you? You're impervious to weapons!"

"Aye," Blackbeard said bitterly, "but I'm not impervious to magic."

"The queen used her magic on you?" Ursula asked. "Didn't you warn her against that?"

"Of course!" Blackbeard burst out, glaring at the witch, "and she wasn't the one who wielded it. An old enemy of mine showed up and brought a blonde witch with him."

"An enemy, hey?" Ursula said eyeing him critically. "Good luck for you. Two enemies in one place."

Rage bubbled up within Blackbeard at the thought of Captain Hook, the smooth _snake_ who had killed the most important person in Blackbeard's life. He'd been in his grasp! He'd been right there! He'd almost been able to exact some well-deserved vengeance. And then Hook _and_ the Evil Queen had slipped through his fingers!

"Good luck would be seeing both enemies tortured and killed before my eyes, not watching them slip through my fingers! Next time I will not fail."

Ursula laughed long and nastily. "Next time? You think there'll be a _next time_, you little scrub? You just pushed my mission back for Poseidon knows how long! Oh no, you, buddy are never going to the surface again."

The rage had taken over then. He'd flown at Ursula. He would _not_ be thwarted by an octopus! Before he'd reached her, she froze him with a spell. "Temper, temper, Captain," she said with a mocking smile. "I think you need a little time to cool off. Have fun hanging out in your chamber until you've decided you can act like a man and not like a moody little guppy."

She'd transferred him here to his chamber, and try as he might, he could find no way out. Three long weeks he'd languished here, the rage growing deeper and stronger with every passing minute.

Blackbeard collapsed into the one chair in his chamber. It wasn't working. What he was doing just wasn't working. He'd never bend Ursula to his will by antagonizing her every day she visited. What he needed was a way to convince her that sending him back to the surface was in _her own_ best interest.

She was quick to remind him that he had cost her precious time and precious ground. What if he found a way to convince her that spying on his enemies could actually _gain_ that ground back? Slowly a plan began to form. It was a good one; when Ursula came to visit (aka. _taunt_) him tonight he would be ready.

….

"So how was your day," Ursula mocked. "Bored to insanity yet?"

"Perhaps you'd do best to give up, Ursula," Blackbeard said calmly, sitting on his chair. "You can't break me. I've been through far too much suffering, far too much pain to be broken by the likes of you."

"Big words, buddy," she said with a snort. "Everybody breaks. Just takes longer with some than others."

Blackbeard crossed his legs and placed his folded hands on top of them. "Maybe so," he conceded, "but from what I've observed, you don't have much longer. Quite the stream of souls you've been planting in your garden lately. Your powers must be weakening."

A frown passed over the witch's features. Good. He had her! "Yeah? What's your point little man?"

"My point is that you would be better served working with me rather than working against me."

"Yeah? Because you've been so helpful to me, what with your utter failure and everything."

"True," he conceded, "my first attempt was unsuccessful, but I've had nothing but time to think trapped as I am in this brig. I think I know _exactly _how I can succeed this time."

"Either that or lose me even more ground."

Blackbeard gave her a calculating look. "That's a risk you'll have to take. What's your alternative? Retain the status quo and slowly shrivel up until you've lost all your powers."

He'd struck a nerve; he could tell by the frown that marred her already hideous features. "So what's your plan?" She asked.

Blackbeard smiled, smelling victory. "Surveillance. Learn what we can about them, and see how we can use it to capture the Evil Queen and thus move one giant leap closer to capturing the trident."

She thought for a moment and then nodded. "Alright bud, but no funny business. One more mistake and you'll wish you'd never been born."

….

Two days later Blackbeard strode purposely into Ursula's castle, a feeling of victory claiming him. His surveillance mission had been successful. Successful beyond his wildest hopes.

He had visited Snow and Charming's castle, once again melting into the shadows, easily able to hide in his barely corporeal from. He'd gathered incredibly useful information on his deepest enemy. Captain Hook was in love. Desperately in love. He looked at that blonde witch of a wife of his as though the sun rose and set in her eyes.

And that love would be his undoing. Blackbeard knew exactly what he needed to do in order to bring his enemy to his knees. It was no more difficult than writing and secretly delivering another note. This time next week, he would be celebrating the defeat and annihilation of his bitterest enemy. Then with Hook and his wife neutralized, he would be free to exact his vengeance on the queen.

"Well?" Ursula asked. She sat at her ridiculous dining room table, eating with less grace than a two year old.

"Well, what, Ursula?" he asked smugly.

She pointed a half-eaten chicken leg at him and scowled. Incidentally, since when did sea creatures eat chicken? "You know exactly 'well what', my not-so-good man. Find out anything interesting?"

"Indeed I did," Blackbeard said taking a seat across from Ursula and lazily leaning back. "As it happens, I learned something that may turn the very tide in your favor."

That got her attention. "Well?"

Blackbeard poured himself a goblet of wine, took a long sip and then smiled. "Your vocabulary is sadly lacking today, I'm afraid."

Ursula sputtered in what Blackbeard could only consider rage. "You tell me what you know this second you plankton brain or I'll toss you back in your little chamber until you rot."

Blackbeard tsk and shook his head, greatly enjoying once again having the upper hand. "Such a temper you have," he said mockingly. "Tossing me in the brig will do nothing to get you the information you want. Perhaps you should try civility for a change."

Ursula's purple face became red as a lumpy, slightly over-ripe tomato. It wouldn't shock him in the least to see steam pouring from her ears. He watched her, wondering whether her curiosity or her rage would win out.

She took two deep breaths and blew them out. Then she smoothed her features and pasted on a horrible travesty of a smile. Curiosity then. "Pardon me," she said, "would you _please_ tell me this info you learned."

"Very well," he said, "since you asked politely. It turns out the Evil Queen has two interesting house guests."

"House guests? Why should I care who she invites to come over?"

"Oh, I think it will become infinitely obvious just why you should care. Her guests are none other than King Triton's daughter Ariel and her lover Prince Erik."

"And?" Ursula asked, irritation seeping into her voice.

"_And_," Blackbeard said slowly, "they are engaged. They've set a date next month for their wedding."

"_That's_ your big news?" Ursula erupted. "You think I _care_ a shred of seaweed about Triton's daughter's love life?"

"If you don't, you should," Blackbeard said, examining the butter knife at his table setting. "It just so happens that wedding will do no less than give you your best chance for stealing the trident."

"How'd you figure that?" Ursula asked curiously, tearing a large bite of her dinner roll with her teeth.

"As it happens, Ariel and Erik found themselves in a quandary when it came to wedding planning. Erik is a land creature, and Ariel's from the sea. Where could they hold the wedding where both families could attend? As it happens, they came to a compromise. The happy couple plan to wed upon a ship. Erik's family can be on board, while Ariel's watch from the water just off the bow."

"So glad they got all the details worked out," Ursula said sarcastically, "but what does that have to do with me?"

Blackbeard sighed. She really was stupid. "Think, Ursula!" he said in irritation. "With Triton at the surface, his security force will be, at best, divided. Triton, his family and his retinue will require a good deal of security while they are away from their kingdom. That leaves few, if any guards for the trident."

"And with the trident lightly guarded," Ursula said, finally catching on, "stealing it will be a lot easier."

"Exactly," Blackbeard said with a snap of his fingers. "I suggest we send some of our number to the surface during the wedding. They create a series of diversion, thus distracting Triton and his guards. The rest swoop in and take the trident."

"Easy," Ursula said with a laugh. "I like it! Very well, baby cakes, you've redeemed yourself. Go start your planning."

_Enchanted Forest, present day._

Killian reached over and laced his fingers with Emma's. She smiled at him and he grinned back. It was cool for July—at least Emma assumed it was, not being familiar with the Enchanted Forest climate—and the two of them had decided to take advantage of the weather with a stroll through the palace gardens.

"Are you well, love?" Killian asked anxiously.

Emma rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, Killian. Stop hovering. You're worse than an old woman sometimes."

"You're not nauseated? Not feeling faint?"

"Killian I'm pregnant not an invalid. Just relax; I'm not the first woman to have a baby, you know."

"Aye," he agreed hesitantly.

"Besides," Emma continued, "you keep checking up on me like a nervous nelly every two minutes, pretty soon people are going to start putting two and two together. You know we agreed to keep our news quiet for the time being."

"Aye," he said with a sigh, "though I confess to finding it far more difficult than I would have believed. You and that wee one are the most important people in the world to me, and I want to shout my joy to the rooftops. A baby! We're to have a baby!"

Emma laughed. Killian had been making those delighted little outbursts at regular intervals ever since they learned of the pregnancy three days ago. She had to admit, she was close to bursting with her own joy. It was such a change from her first pregnancy. She'd been so alone, so scared, so lost. For months Henry had felt more like a burden tying her down than a blessing. Then he'd begun moving inside her, and she'd fallen in love. Giving him up had been the hardest thing she'd ever had to do, bar none.

But this time, she had her husband by her side. A husband who was as excited as a little child on Christmas morning. A husband who would fight for her and the baby until his dying breath. It was wonderful and humbling and freeing all at once.

"So I was thinking," Emma said, as they passed a rose bush, and Killian stopped to cut a small bud with his hook. Emma took the proffered offering and brought it to her nose, enjoying the sweet aroma.

"Should I be concerned, lass?" Killian asked with a teasing smile. She swatted him.

"We need to take care of Blackbeard and Ursula and get the hell back to Storybrooke as soon as possible. I want to have this baby in a hospital, surrounded by doctors and nurses and modern medical technology."

"Aye," Killian said, "it would be a relief to have this enemy defeated."

"Killian," Emma asked, looking over at him curiously, "why does Blackbeard hate you so much? He looked like he could joyfully take you apart piece by piece."

Killian looked troubled, and then shrugged. "Well, like I said, I did kill him…or I suppose it would be more correct to say I _thought_ I killed him. But is that all it is? I just can't say lass. He seemed to hold quite a grudge against me as far back as our first meeting. He kept shouting at me about someone named Anne."

"One of your past conquests?"

"I can't recall ever meeting anyone named Anne," he said, voice still troubled.

"Maybe he got you mixed up with someone else."

"Perhaps," Killian said softly, "but who's to say? I was quite the scoundrel before I met you, as you're no doubt aware. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised if my past comes back to haunt me."

Emma squeezed his hand, and laid her head against his shoulder. "Well, you can't change your past; you can only move forward with your future. You're a good man now, and I love you more than words can say."

He looked at her with evident surprise. Emma didn't often verbalize her feelings, and when she did, it never ceased to catch him off guard. His eyes softened, and he kissed her gently.

"And I you, my love."

They walked in silence for a while, and then Emma returned to the topic that had been consuming her thoughts for the last few days. "So anyway, we're getting nowhere just waiting for Blackbeard to make his next move. Maybe it's time we go on the offensive."

"What do you mean?"

"Send Ariel back to Triton's kingdom with a letter for Blackbeard," she suggested. "Say it's from Regina, request a meeting to discuss the ransoming of Roland."

The thunderclouds were beginning to form on his brow. "Darling, what do you mean 'say it's from Regina.' What are you really planning?"

"I'll meet him myself," she said with a shrug. "My magic stopped him before; who's to say it can't defeat him once and for all."

"No," he said with a decisive shake of his head. "Absolutely not. I forbid it."

Emma stopped in her tracks, her eyes narrowing. "What do you mean you forbid it? Just who are you Killian Jones to forbid me to do anything?"

"I'm your husband!" he thundered.

"And that gives you the right to dictate my actions?" she yelled with equal force.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "A poor choice of words, lass. I've no desire to play the over-bearing husband with you. Ever."

"But…?"

"But love, please!" he pleaded. "We are married now. It's not just you or me. It's _us_. We've both been alone for a long time and have become accustomed to our own independence, but now we must make decisions that are best for us; for our family."

"But Killian, getting rid of the villains that threaten us _is_ in the best interest of our family."

"Lass," Killian said gently, placing his hand on her flat belly, "it's not merely the two of us we must think of anymore. It's the babe. Please don't do anything that would put our child in danger. If I lost either one of you…"

She softened at his obvious distress. "Okay," she said simply. "For our baby's sake I'll do my best to stay out of danger, but you have to do the same. I've already lost so many people in my life. I couldn't stand to lose you as well."

Killian leaned in and gently kissed her. "I shall keep your concerns in mind."

….

As the weeks had passed, Robin's dreams became steadily more vivid, more emotional. They were still snippets, moments in time, but they felt as real as anything he experienced while awake. He dreamed that he and Regina were breaking into the castle in search of…something…and a witch attacked them. He dreamed of simple, peaceful evenings spent with her in Tuck's cottage. He dreamt of watching her play with the little boy with the mop of curly black hair. He dreamed of kissing her, holding her. He dreamt of her say goodbye to him and then disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke. He dreamed of his pain in her absence.

It was as though he had an entire life that he simply couldn't remember. It was beyond disturbing.

Regina continued to care for him, keep him company. He'd begun to get up from time to time, and she was always by his side. Her presence had become so familiar, so comforting that he missed her when she was away from him. It simply felt _wrong_.

How was it that he was so drawn to her? How was it that he had such strong feelings for another woman when it felt like his Marian, the love of his life, had just died? What kind of a person was he?

A month after he'd awoken from his coma, Robin found himself sitting in a comfortable chair before the fire in the great hall, Regina at his side. They'd read silently, simply enjoying each other's presence. At some point during the evening, Robin had reached over and linked his fingers with hers. Regina had looked up, surprised at the gesture, but then she'd smiled tenderly and caressed the back of his hand with her thumb.

"Regina," he said quietly. She looked up questioningly. "I feel like I'm living in a fog. Please help me to understand; help me to make sense of my life."

"What do you want to know?" she asked, turning more fully toward him.

"We knew each other before my attack, didn't we?"

She dropped her eyes and picked at her dress. "Yes. We knew each other."

"In what capacity, precisely?" he asked. "Did we have feelings for each other."

She met his gaze squarely. "For my part Robin, yes. I loved you with everything within me; Roland too. There's nothing in the world I wanted more than to be with the two of you."

"Did I love you as well?"

She looked away again. "Yes," she said quietly, "I have reason to believe you returned my feelings just as strongly."

He was silent for a moment, taking it in. That felt _right_. But then her words struck him, and a cold chill passed over him.

"You said you _loved_ me not that you _love_ me," he said. "Has that changed? I dreamed that you left me and that I felt like you'd ripped my very heart from my chest."

Regina cringed at that. "You have no idea how ironic that wording is," she muttered under her breath. "But to answer your question…I've never stopped loving you. I know that I never will, whether or not you ever regain your memories."

His heart leaped at her admission, and he felt an almost irresistible desire to make a similar declaration of his own. Instead, he brought their conjoined hands to his lips.

"But you left me."

"I had no choice!" she said in an agonized voice. "It was the only way to save my son; I had to reinstate an old curse I'd cast long ago…back when I was…not the person I want to be."

She was prevaricating. There was something she wasn't telling him. If he wasn't mistaken, there was something she was _afraid_ to tell him. What?

"Regina, you're not simply a servant, a nurse maid, are you?"

Her eyes were twin pools of agony. Slowly she shook her head, and a single tear seeped down her cheek. Robin raised his hand and caught the drop with his thumb.

"What is the matter?" he asked gently. "What are you afraid to tell me?"

She turned her head away. "When you know the truth you'll hate me."

"Regina," he said, gently turning her back to face him. "I highly doubt anything you say will make me hate you."

"This will," Regina muttered. For a moment, she closed her eyes. It looked like she was marshalling her courage. Finally she opened them and looked resolutely at him. "I've done everything I know how to change my life, but many years ago I was the queen."

Confusion swept him for a moment. What was she saying? And then it clicked. He yanked his hand free from hers and hastily (well as hastily as possible given his still-healing wounds) got to his feet. "The Evil Queen? You're the Evil Queen?"

The tears started in earnest this time, making veritable rivers down her face. "_Was_. That's who I _was_."

Waves of horror washed over him, and he backed away. "What manner of spell have you cast over me, witch? You wish me to believe I fell in love with the _Evil Queen_! The woman responsible for my wife's _death_?"

"Robin, please!" She reached for him, but he pulled his hand from her grasp.

"No!" he thundered. "There's nothing I could feel for you but loathing!"

She sobbed. "I'm not the woman I was. I've changed."

"I think it would be best if you kept away from me, my lady," he said coldly. "I'll find myself another nurse."

With that he turned from the room, hardening his heart against the grief he left behind him.

_Notes:_

_-Another very LONG chapter!_

_-Well that was a depressing way to end a chapter. It really had to happen, though. If you remember, in "A Wish Your Heart Makes", when Robin found out who Regina was, he was pretty upset—and that was six years after Marian's death. You really couldn't expect him to react any less violently now, what feels to him like a mere month after he lost his wife. Hopefully he'll get his memories back soon—or at least realize that Regina truly does regret her past actions and that just a few weeks ago she demonstrated that she loved him and his son so much, she was willing to sacrifice her life for them. That should count for something!_

_-On a less depressing note, I had fun writing Evil Queen Regina and slightly unbalanced Dark One Rumple in the back in time section!_

_-Up next: 1 year before the 1__st__ curse, a broken-hearted Blackbeard takes his first stab at revenge against Hook. In the present day, despite learning who she is (and vowing to hate her), Robin just can't seem to get Regina out of his head. Belle, his new nurse, has an interesting conversation with him about falling in love with villains._


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

_Waters off Agrabah, 1 year before the first curse_

"Captain, I must caution you against this move," Smythe said, stepping into the captain's quarters. "The time is not right; I feel it in my bones."

"Your bones are not captaining this ship, Mr. Smythe," Blackbeard said grimly, pouring over the maps spread across his desk. "I am, and my orders are for you to ready the men for attack."

Smythe blew out a long breath and tried again. "I beg you to reconsider. The men are tired; we've attacked five ships in as many days. As you well know, tired men produce shoddy work. In our profession, shoddy work results in death more often than not."

"Are you suggesting," Blackbeard asked menacingly, "that my men—Blackbeard's crew—are so _tired_ they can't even manage to take down one, solitary merchant vessel?"

Smythe sighed. "No, Captain. I'm sure we can take it, but at what cost? Look, if you won't consider the well-being of your men, consider this. That Agrabah spice merchant is far too close to land. In point of fact, I can make out the west coast with my naked eye. Attacking a vessel when it is that close to help is nothing but folly."

"The greater the risk, the greater the reward."

Smythe stepped forward and placed a rough hand on Blackbeard's shoulder. "I know you're grieving, I know Anne's passing hit you hard, and I understand the need to find _something _to deaden the pain, but I beg you not to do this. The situation feels off, almost like a set-up. Please, do not put your men, yourself, in danger like this."

The pain ripped through Blackbeard at the sound if his sister's name, and he closed his eyes against the tears that threatened. Through sheer force of will, he channeled his pain into anger. When he opened his eyes, the look in them was so fierce that his big, burly first mate quaked before him.

"You heard my orders, Mr. Smythe. Anymore objections from you I will consider nothing short of insubordination. Have I made myself clear?"

Smythe dropped his head in defeat. "Aye, Captain. I'll ready the men."

_Enchanted Forest, two days later_

Blackbeard nodded his thanks to the buxom bar maid who flirtatiously handed him the bottle of rum he'd requested. He looked her over, enjoying the view of a bodice cut so low she might as well have just stripped to the waist. He gave her the expected leer and then sent her on her way. No matter how delectable the woman in question, his heart simply wasn't in wenching tonight.

It had been a disaster. A bloody _disaster!_ He wished with all his heart he'd taken Smythe's advice, but he'd allowed his pain to drive him. Anything to deaden the knife-sharp ache that had been his constant companion over the past two weeks since Anne's death.

Blackbeard had known from the moment he'd stepped on board the merchant vessel that it was no good. He'd found himself face to face not with a shocked, panicked crew, but rather with a deck full of grimly determined men, men who were armed to the teeth. Even more disconcerting than the crew, was the captain, himself. The man smiled ferally, white teeth stark against the backdrop of his dark skin, almond-shaped eyes narrowed in amusement and contempt.

"Ah, Blackbeard," the man said in a heavily accented voice, "at last! We've been waiting for you."

Blackbeard had little more than a beat to ponder that before a shout from one of his crew members drew his attention starboard. His heart dropped to his very toes. A veritable fleet of Agrabah naval vessels advanced upon them.

They'd been set up. Blackbeard's grief induced inattention might have just cost his crew their lives.

What followed was some of the most desperate and impressive sword play of Blackbeard's life. It claimed the lives of two of his men. Blackbeard, himself, barely escaped with his life. As soon as he and his remaining men regained their ship, they sailed with the wind. Their lighter vessel easily outstripped their pursuers.

Disdaining the shot glass he'd been handed, Blackbeard took a pull directly from the bottle. Stupid! He'd been so stupid and reckless! He'd hoped pouring himself into his work would be sufficient to deaden the pain of Anne's passing, but it had done nothing of the sort. No, it wasn't work that would help Blackbeard heal, but revenge.

His mission was clear. He would find Captain Hook and wring every last exquisite drop of agony out of the vermin before ending his miserable life.

Blackbeard took another sip, relishing the bite, the burn, the vague fuzziness the alcohol elicited. He looked around and noticed the rowdy group of rough-looking men at a nearby table. A short man with a bushy brown beard and a red-knit cap seemed to be in particularly fine form.

"Drink up, my lads!" the man said. "It may be your last days of liberty for a long time. When Cap'n returns he'll be raring for another adventure."

"Where is Hook anyway, Smee?" asked a redhead with an impressive handlebar moustache.

Blackbeard's ears perked up at the sound of his enemy's name.

"Didn't say," Smee said with a shrug. "Just told me he was on a mission for the Evil Queen."

"Are you sure we were right to leave so few men guarding the _Jolly_?" the redhead said skeptically.

Smee scoffed. "It's the _Jolly Roger_ we're talking about! Cap'n Hook's the most feared pirate on the high seas. No one's going to be stupid enough to take his ship."

Blackbeard grinned as a plan began forming. Oh, this Mr. Smee believed no one would attack his precious "Cap'n's" ship, did he? He was about to find out just how wrong he was. Blackbeard intended to do just that.

Within a mere two hours the deed was done. It was almost embarrassing how easily he managed to intimidate Captain Hook's worthless crew. He'd done little more than jump aboard, announce that he was the new captain, wave his sword around menacingly and threaten to murder everyone, and they'd scurried like the frightened insects they were.

Blackbeard's first official act as captain of the _Jolly Roger_ was to rechristen her. When Hook returned from whatever miserable hole he found himself curled up in tonight, he would return not to the _Jolly Roger_ manned by his own filthy crew, but rather to the _Queen Anne's Revenge_ captained by none other than Blackbeard.

When Hook came to take his ship back, Blackbeard would be ready for him. There was something utterly fitting in the scoundrel dying painfully on board a vessel bearing the name of the woman he'd ruined and destroyed.

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

The sun was streaming in the windows of the great hall when Emma made her way down. She looked at her watch. _9:07_. Where was everyone? It wasn't _that _late.

Snow White sat alone at the table eating her breakfast with relish. Just the sight made Emma queasy. She couldn't _wait_ until she got over this morning sickness. With Henry it had lasted three months or so, but she'd heard of women who were sick all nine months. Emma closed her eyes and groaned at the very thought.

Snow looked up and smiled. "Morning, Emma. Beautiful day today, don't you think?"

"Uh-huh," Emma muttered non-commitally.

Snow looked at her closely, and Emma saw the motherly concern in her eyes. "Are you okay, Emma? I know you've been under the weather lately, and you look kind of green."

Emma forced a smile. "Yeah, mom, I'm fine," she said, grabbing a plate and beginning to fill it with food. She'd come to realize that eating frequent small meals helped keep the nausea at bay. "Just tired, I guess."

Snow smiled mischievously. "Well, you and Killian are still newlyweds."

Emma smiled absently. Truth be told, their nighttime activities had slacked off quite a bit in the week since she'd discovered she was pregnant. Emma was just so _tired_ all the time that she barely had the energy to sleep, let alone make love with her husband. She had, of course, promised him that as soon as she was more herself, she would more than make it up to him.

"I'll get you some coffee," Snow said, getting awkwardly to her feet. "That'll help wake you up."

Emma groaned. "Don't worry about it Mom; not really feeling like coffee today." This baby really knew how to kick her where it hurt. Even the _thought_ of coffee turned her stomach.

Snow gave her a suspicious look. "Are you _sure_ you're alright? You just about lived on coffee before."

Best turn this conversation soon or her mother would guess the truth. "Just trying to cut back is all. Too much caffeine makes me crazy. Speaking of health, how are _you _feeling?"

Snow smiled and absently caressed her large, round belly. "Tired, awkward, like I'm roughly the size of a beached whale. I've reached the part of the pregnancy where I just want this little guy _out_ of me. Six weeks to go; I don't know if I'm going to survive!"

Emma smiled. "Don't think I ever really reached that point with Henry," she said with a shrug. "I guess because I knew as soon as he was born, I'd lose him."

Snow reached over and took her hand, her eyes sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Emma. I can't imagine how hard that must have been."

"Yeah," Emma said with another shrug, "I survived. Anyway, one day Killian and I will have kids and I can make some good memories surrounding babies."

"Are you guys planning to get pregnant soon?" Snow asked, her ears perking up.

"No," Emma said quickly, "we certainly aren't planning to get pregnant. Things are kind of nuts the way they are right now."

Emma felt slightly guilty about her prevarication, but she hadn't lied, technically. She and Killian weren't planning to _become_ pregnant.

"Where is everyone anyway?" Emma asked, gingerly taking a bite of her oatmeal. "It's never so quiet around here."

"Your father and Killian went hunting with the Camelot knights," Snow said with a smile. "I think they decided they needed some male bonding time."

"Let's hope they shoot chimaera and other animals rather than each other," Emma said ruefully.

Snow laughed. "Yeah. I'm too tired lately to patch up a bunch of macho idiots."

"You and me both."

"Erik and Ariel headed to her father's kingdom to visit and get his help with our Blackbeard/Ursula problem," Snow said, "I don't know where Rumple disappeared to, Belle's with Robin. He took a bit of a turn for the worse last night. Probably been overdoing it on that broken leg. And Regina…"

"How's she doing?" Emma asked. No one knew exactly what had happened between Robin and Regina a couple of days ago, but they seemed to have fought—badly. Robin refused to even be in the same room with Regina anymore. The former Evil Queen wasn't taking it well, from what Emma could see.

Snow shrugged. "About the same, I guess. She barely touched her breakfast, and then she immediately returned to her room muttering something about looking for a way to defeat Blackbeard."

"I hope whatever's going on between Robin and Regina is resolved soon," Emma said speculatively. "I feel bad for her, of course, but it's more than that. I have a feeling we're going to need everyone if we're going to win this fight. We just can't afford for her to be distracted and depressed."

"You're right, of course," Snow said, staring speculatively at the stairwell leading to the bedchambers above. "I wonder if I could get through to her."

Emma shrugged. "It's worth a shot."

….

Regina sat by her window, staring blankly out. She'd known how Robin would react to her true identity, but she still wasn't prepared for the pain. He'd looked at her like she was no better than a slug he'd found in his garden. She'd hoped the bond they were reforging during his convalescence would be strong enough to cushion the blow when he finally found out, but she'd been a fool. This time was so much worse than when he'd found out the first time a year and a half ago.

She wiped her eyes and mentally shook herself. She could not grieve about what had happened with Robin; she didn't have the time. His little boy was still out there, somewhere, being held by someone who'd gotten the reputation of being a devil for a reason. Roland had to be her focus; she had to find a way to save him.

A knock sounded at the door, and Regina looked up in surprise. "Come in," she called.

Snow waddled awkwardly in and took a chair near Regina.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Your Majesty?" Regina asked frostily.

"I just wanted to see how you're doing," Snow said.

"I haven't made any progress," Regina said briskly. "I've been wracking my brains trying to come up with _anything_ that would help us find Roland, but I've been unsuccessful. The only hope I have right now is that Ariel will find out something when she's visiting her father."

Snow leaned over, took Regina's hand, and shot her a sympathetic glance. "I didn't ask what you've been doing; I asked how you _are_."

Regina dropped her head and idly ran her finger along the smooth, wooden arm of her chair. "Why? Why would you care how I am? I spent more years than I care to count trying to kill you."

"Whatever's happened between us, we're _family_, and family sticks together."

Regina felt the tears rush to her eyes. "I don't deserve your kindness after everything I've done."

Snow squeezed her hand. "We all have things in our past that we are ashamed of," she said with her particular intensity. "I guess the only thing we can really do is try to make amends and move on with our lives."

"But in the words of everyone's favorite sparkly imp, everything comes with a price," Regina said sadly, "and sometimes that price is agonizing to pay."

"Something happened with Robin, didn't it?"

Regina looked at Snow, dropped her eyes and nodded.

"Want to talk about it."

Did she? She'd been holding it in since the blow-up with Robin, too distraught to even bring it up. But somehow, looking into the kind brown eyes of her step-daughter, Regina felt the need to unburden herself.

"He asked me to tell him the truth—who I really was."

"And when you did, he didn't react well?"

"To say the least," Regina said with a bitter laugh. "He told me all he could ever feel for me was loathing; that he didn't want to see me anymore. I've lost him Snow. Things were going so well between us, and now it's just…over."

"I'm sorry," Snow said simply. "I figured it was something like that."

"The worst of it is that I thought I'd finally found my happy ending," Regina said, wiping at another tear. "I thought Robin and Roland and I could be together and be happy, but I guess that was stupid. Villains don't get happy endings."

Snow was quiet for several moments, and Regina chanced a look at her. She had a thoughtful look in her eye.

"I think that's true," Snow finally said slowly. "Villains _don't_ get happy endings. But I also believe we make the choice whether we're villains or not. We don't just get put in the hero column or the villain column and then we're doomed to stay there forever. We make our own choices, and it's those choices that determine whether we're heroes or villains."

Regina nodded slowly, feeling a measure of hope in Snow's words.

"Regina," Snow continued, "whatever you've done in the past, I've seen how you've changed. You gave up Henry so that you could destroy Pan's curse. You gave up Robin and Roland so that you could save Henry and bring us all back to Storybrooke. Just a few weeks ago you offered up your life to save Roland. Those aren't the actions of a villain; they're the actions of a hero."

"Thank you," Regina said in a wobbly voice. "But, I don't think Robin sees me that way. I don't think he'll ever see me that way again."

"Do you mind if I ask a personal question?"

Regina shrugged. "Why not?"

"What is it that Robin has against you?"

Regina looked at Snow deliberately. "He thinks I was responsible for his wife's death."

"Were you?"

"Yes," Regina said simply. "Indirectly at least. I went to Marian's home village where I had good intelligence that you'd been recently. I demanded the villagers give me information, but they refused. I…I had the whole town killed in retaliation."

Snow gasped.

"When Marian found out what had happened to her family, her childhood friends, she went into early labor, and she didn't survive the birth."

"And with Robin's amnesia making him feel as though Marian had just died little more than a month ago, his anger with the Evil Queen must be monumental," Snow breathed.

"Exactly," Regina said sadly. "I don't think he'll ever get past this."

Snow was silent for so long that Regina finally looked up at her. The younger woman was giving her a soft smile. "You can't give up hope, Regina," she said gently. "Happy endings always begin with hope. You love Robin, and from what I saw when we were here before, he loved you too—very much. I'd wager quite a bit that you two share true love, and true love never dies."

"I'd like to believe that," Regina said, "but you didn't see him. You didn't feel his anger. I…I'm afraid his pain will win out over his love."

Snow shook her head. "I don't believe that. Can I give you a piece of advice."

"Sure."

"Keep loving him. Keep trying. Give him time to make peace with the situation, but don't give up. Charming, the Jones's, me, Belle, we're all behind you; we'll do what we can to help Robin see that the Evil Queen is gone…and that Regina is a woman worthy of his love and forgiveness."

The tears started again, but this time rather than stifling, they were freeing. There was something about the way Snow spoke about hope that made Regina believe it was possible, made her believe all was not definitively lost with her true love. "Thanks," Regina finally said thickly. "And for the record, I'm really glad I never succeeded in killing you back then."

Snow laughed. "So am I."

….

Robin shifted restlessly on his bed. His leg was in considerable pain, and he couldn't seem to find a comfortable position.

"Anything you need?" Belle asked from where she read in the chair by his bed.

_Yes. Regina_, his traitorous mind said. "Thank you, no," he said finally. "It's still some time before I am allowed more potion for pain relief."

"You're having a rough time of it, aren't you," Belle asked, putting her book aside.

_You have no idea_, Robin thought to himself. The physical pain was little compared to the turmoil he was dealing with inside. On the one hand, his anger, his horror, his pain at learning Regina's true identity, at remembering just what she'd ripped from him, was extreme.

On the other, he couldn't convince his faithless heart to abandon the feelings he'd begun to have for the woman.

With each passing day, he remembered more and more snippets of the life he'd forgotten. He remembered the day he'd first met Regina. He'd thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. And when she'd immediately taken Roland under her wing, his heart had melted. He remembered fleeing with her after their botched mission at the castle. He remembered their first kiss. He remembered long, heart to heart conversations on cold winter nights.

He'd loved her; there was no longer any doubt in his mind. He'd been desperately, passionately in love with her. How could that be? Had he been unaware of just who she was? Had he known…and moved past it? How could he possibly have been so heartless, so false to his dear Marian's memory?

"Yes," Robin said finally with a decisive nod of his head. "I think it would be quite fair to say I'm having a rough time of it."

"It's not just about your pain, is it? It's about whatever happened with Regina."

"You are quite perceptive, my lady," he said.

"I don't know what's happened to create the rift between you," Belle said, "but I do know the two of you loved each other when we left the Enchanted Forest the last time. And in the six months since? Regina's been a mess. She missed you, like you wouldn't believe."

"I'm starting to believe that's true," Robin said softly.

Belle patted his hand in a motherly way. "Regina's a good woman. She may have had her faults in the past, but she's trying; she's truly trying."

"Forgive me, my lady," Robin said letting a fraction of his anger color his tone, "but I have my doubts you know even a fraction of the woman's 'faults in the past'."

"Don't I?" Belle asked with a raise of her brow. "Robin, Regina kidnapped me took away my memories and locked me in a mental institution that was starker than a prison cell for nearly thirty years. I think I know a little something about what she's capable of."

Robin was surprised at the information. "How could you bring yourself to forgive…and come to trust a woman who would do something like that."

Belle sat quietly, obviously deep in thought for several moments before she spoke. "I know a little something about dealing with villains and former villains; I am married to one after all. The thing is, I believe it's important to look past a person's actions; to look at their heart."

"And what do you see when you look at Regina's heart?"

"A woman who let pain and anger cloud her heart and soul for a long time, and in the process became something of a monster," Belle answered. "But underneath all of that, I see a good heart."

"A woman who is willing to fight in whatever way necessary for those she loves," Robin said, and then shot Belle a startled look. Where had that come from?

"Exactly," she said with a smile. "Perhaps you're starting to regain your memory after all."

"Perhaps."

"And you wouldn't be so troubled about Regina, so conflicted if your feelings for her had completely gone away, would you?" Belle continued.

His brow furrowed. "No, I wouldn't," he finally admitted.

After a moment Belle spoke again. "I'm not going to tell you what you should do or how you should deal with Regina, but I think you need to know this. The last time we were in the Enchanted Forest, Regina saved Roland from the Wicked Witch of the West…at great risk to herself. And then just a few weeks ago she offered her life to try to get your son back to you. There's nothing she wouldn't do for you or your son, because she loves you both. You can't help the pain and betrayal you feel about whatever Regina did to you in the past, but please, don't throw away your best chance for happiness."

Robin nodded slowly. "I'll certainly take your suggestions under advisement."

_Notes:_

_-So Blackbeard stole the _Jolly Roger_ and changed the name. Incidentally, the real, historical Blackbeard's ship really was named the _Queen Anne's Revenge_. It was named for Queen Anne of England in reality, but I thought the name would suit nicely as a tribute to Edward's sister._

_-In the present day, Robin may be angry and conflicted, but he can't deny the feelings he has for Regina. Hopefully he'll take Belle's advice and give Regina another chance._

_-Up next: Not quite a year before the 1__st__ curse, Ariel looks into the mirror enchanted with a locator spell and discovers that Erik has been kidnapped by pirates and is being held on what appears to be the _Jolly Roger_. In the present day section, Killian wakes up one morning to find that he is the latest recipient of one of Blackbeard's notes. It offers him two rather unpalatable choices. What will he do?_


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

_Enchanted Forest, not quite a year before the first curse_

Ariel jumped, ran, pirouetted, _reveled_ in the legs she now owned thanks to the blessed cuff on her arm. It was hers to keep this time; hers to keep forever! Legs were _wonderful_! From what she'd witnessed, humans simply did not appreciate them the way they should.

Skipping forward, Ariel returned to the bag where she kept her most prized trinkets. Shiny seashells, forks, other items humans simply threw away.

And the mirror. Ariel picked up the mirror almost reverently, closed her eyes tightly and thought of her prince.

Prince Erik. The most handsome man in any realm. Her true love. As a young mermaid, Ariel had watched her much-older sisters fall in love one by one. She'd seen the stars in their eyes, heard the breathlessness in their voices as they described their mermen, seen the glow of happiness that covered them as they wed their beloveds. She'd spent many nights, lying on her solitary bunk dreaming of the day her own true love would find her.

And then she'd found him, quite by accident as it happened. She'd gone to the surface to feed the seagulls. Birds fascinated her. What would it be like to soar through air, weightless, free? There was one in particular she more or less considered her pet. She'd privately named him Scuttle. From time to time he brought her shiny human objects. In return, she kept him supplied with all the minnows he might wish to eat.

One night, Ariel had had a rather fierce fight with her father. He didn't understand her; he simply didn't! Didn't he realize she _had_ to go to the surface from time to time? She _had _to see what else was out there! Life under the sea had become nearly stifling, but her father simply didn't understand. He'd gone on and on about Ursula, about the havoc she wanted to cause the kingdom. About the dangerous deals she was constantly cutting with unsuspecting merpeople. About the dangers of being spotted by humans and other land creatures. Ariel was not a guppy! She was an eighteen-year-old woman, and she could take care of herself. She didn't need her father to constantly hold her fins!

That was when she'd spotted it, the most magnificent ship she'd ever seen. She'd swam closer…closer than she'd ever dared to get to a vessel captained by land dwellers. And that's when she saw him. He stood at the deck, wind blowing in his ebony hair, loose white shirt billowing in the evening breeze, warm blue eyes looking out to sea with thirst for adventure. He was the most beautiful creature she'd ever beheld.

Romantic though she was, Ariel had always been a little skeptical about "love at first sight." Surely one must get to know a man before she fell in love with him, mustn't she? But looking up at this human man, Ariel knew her skepticism had been unfounded. Love like she'd never felt, never even _imagined_ filled her from the top of her head to the very tip of her tail. No matter the danger, no matter the difficulty, no matter the difference in their worlds, she _had _to know this man.

An older man stepped gingerly to the rail. He looked slightly green. "Are you sure you should be so close to the edge of the ship, my prince?"

"Stop worrying Grimsby!" the man of her dreams had said with a clap to the older man's back. "I never feel more _alive_ than when I'm on the sea! Besides, Triton's kingdom must be peaceful tonight. Look how calm and serene the sea is!"

Grimsby sighed and rolled his eyes. "Prince Erik," he said disapprovingly, "I'd wager you'd like Triton's kingdom a far sight less if you were to see it first hand when you fell overboard. Now _please_, come below where it's safe! One of these days you're going to give me a heart attack!"

Prince Erik sighed. "Very well, Grim," he said, "wouldn't want to be responsible for a heart attack. Lead the way."

And then her prince had left her, wandered away toward the bowels of the ship. Ariel had felt a moment of disappointment. He was walking away from her! But then, determination had filled her. One way or another she would find a way to be with Prince Erik. _Her_ Prince Erik.

As Ariel turned the mirror over and waited for the image to crystalize, her mind drifted over her meeting with the prince. The ball had been simply divine! The food, the glittering assembly, the beautiful dresses of the ladies the tuxedoes of the gentlemen, the decorations, the music. It had all been beyond her wildest imagination. And then _he'd_ walked in, and everything else in the world melted away. As he approached her, interest and intrigue in his eyes, nothing else mattered. Nothing but them.

He took her in his arms and led her across the floor in something called a "waltz." He was so close she felt his breath on her face, smelled the spicy scent of his cologne, nearly drowned in the pools of his eyes. They'd talked and laughed as though they'd known each other forever. To crown it all, he'd told her he was sailing the realms, and he asked her to come with him. All her dreams were _finally _coming true!

But then "Ursula" had turned out to be not Ursula at all. She was nothing more than a witch with vengeance on her mind. She'd not only stolen back Ariel's new legs, she'd also stolen her voice, and Ariel had had to watch as her true love sailed out of her life forever.

Taking a deep breath, Ariel looked into the mirror. The first thing she noticed was his face. It had worked! The Evil Queen's locator spell had worked! Then other things began coming into focus. He was in distress. He was fighting, his sword flashing furiously this way and that as he fought with a man with an impressive black beard—and impressive _flaming_ black beard.

Erik's opponent had tremendous skill, and within moments, Ariel watched in horror as her prince was disarmed. Erik fell to his knees, a crimson patch staining his thigh where the other man had slashed him. Was she too late? Was she about to watch her true love be slaughtered?

The man placed the tip of his sword against Erik's adam's apple, and Ariel screamed, expecting any moment to see the weapon plunge forward and Erik's precious life-blood gushing from the resulting wound. But Erik's attacker did not go in for the kill. Instead, he demanded surrender.

_Please Erik! Please agree. I can't lose you, not now. Not when I'm so close to finding you_.

Erik looked rebellious for the space of a moment, but then dropped his head in defeat. Letting his sword clatter to the deck of his ship, Erik raised his hands in surrender.

"Wise choice, Your Majesty," Erik's attacker said, sheathing his own sword. "You're men will be freed, but you must come with me."

"What do you want with me, pirate?" Erik asked contemptuously.

The pirate laughed. "Oh the captain of yon vessel wants much with you. You, my dear man are a prince of the realm. Just imagine what a fantastic ransom you'll bring."

Ariel watched intently as the pirate led Erik from his own vessel to a rowboat and then onto the pirate ship. She looked closely, desperate for any clues who had taken her true love, any clues that would help her find him.

Suddenly she gasped. She'd heard of that ship before. What's more, she'd _seen_ it. She'd bet her entire collection of human artifacts that the pirate with the flaming beard was leading her Erik onto the _Jolly Roger_.

A moment of dread filled her. The _Jolly Roger _was legendary. It was owned and ruled by Captain Hook, one of the most formidable villains on the high seas. She would find Hook if it was the last thing she did, and when she did, she would force the scoundrel to give her back her man!

….

Hook blew out a deep breath, and ran his hand through his dark hair. He was tired. Down to the bone tired. How had things taken such a turn? Two weeks ago, he'd pursued a lead, the first break he'd gotten in _centuries_. This was going to lead him to the Crocodile; he knew it!

When he'd learned the Evil Queen had imprisoned the woman the Crocodile had stolen and forced to be his servant, Hook had known an intense feeling of victory. If anyone would be an ally in his quest for vengeance it would be Belle. She who had suffered at the hands of the beast who had subjected her to God only knew what kind of indignities, she would jump at the opportunity to get her vengeance!

But it hadn't worked out the way he had planned. Within moments of talking to her, it had become painfully clear. The poor, deluded woman had feelings for him! The fool had actually fallen in _love_ with the Crocodile!

He'd been so frustrated, he'd nearly plunged his hook into her pretty little heart. Hook winced as he thought about it. Had he really become such a cad that he would stoop to killing an innocent, defenseless woman simply because she wouldn't help him with his revenge?

Fortunately he'd been thwarted in his unmanly attack by the arrival of the Evil Queen. She'd sent him to Wonderland on a mission to assassinate her mother. Simple enough, it had seemed. How difficult could it be to remove and crush the heart of one, solitary woman? Far, far too difficult, it turned out, when said woman was a powerful sorceress. Hook rubbed his chest, still remembering the blistering pain of Cora reaching into his chest and squeezing his heart.

So he'd brought Cora back to the Evil Queen, not dead, but only feigning to be so. He'd no more than delivered the "corpse" and watched while Cora did _not_ kill her daughter before he'd set out for his crew and the _Jolly. _The curse would be coming, and soon, if he didn't miss his guess. He wished to have all his affairs in order before it happened.

But even there he was thwarted. He'd reached the dock where he'd left his beautiful lady, but she was nowhere in sight. Had his crew moved her for some reason? He'd found his group of slovenly swine in the local tavern. Mr. Smee had been in fine form, it seemed. Talking and laughing, swilling his beer and let it slosh onto his beard, one wench on his lap and another at his side.

His first mate had gone white as chalk at Hook's appearance. He got quickly to his feet, unceremoniously dumping the feisty redhead he'd been holding.

"C..c..cap'n!" he said shakily, "so pleased to see you're back, sir!"

He wasn't; that was clear enough. The man was bloody terrified.

"Mr. Smee," Hook said menacingly.

"A…aye, Cap'n?"

"Where's the _Jolly_?"

"W…well, you see, Cap'n" Smee stuttered, "it just so happens….we did what we could…not our fault…terrible situation."

"Out with it, Mr. Smee. _Where is the Jolly Roger?_"

"Gone," he said finally.

"What do you mean 'gone'?" Hook had thundered. "Where is she?"

"Blackbeard took her, Cap'n, sir."

"You bloody bilge rats let _Blackbeard_ take my ship?" he shouted.

"C…cap'n , sir," Smee blubbered, "there was nothing we could do! It was _Blackbeard!_ He's the most fearsome pirate on the high seas!"

Hook glared at him so fiercely that Smee quailed and took a step back. "I…I mean the _second_ most fearsome, of course. Following you, of course, Cap'n."

That was two weeks ago. Hook had scoured the shore, done everything he could think of to find his precious lady, but it was all to no avail. A deep feeling of discouragement swamped him. The ship was his home, his last link to Liam, to Milah! He couldn't lose the _Jolly_! If he lost her, he would lose the best parts of himself. He _had _to find her.

Wearily, Hook pushed his way into the tavern, and made his way toward his men seated in the corner. They were far more subdued today than they'd been when he'd first returned from Wonderland. What were pirates without a ship, after all? Smee got to his feet as Hook moved his way.

"Any luck Cap'n? Any news about the _Jolly?"_

"Not a word, Mr. Smee," Hook answered glumly.

"Well, don't give up, Cap'n" Smee said, handing over a bottle of rum. Hook gratefully took a gulp. "She'll turn up. No doubt she misses you as much as you miss her."

Most likely so if the stories of how Blackbeard pushed his ship and crew held even a kernel of truth.

"Aye," Hook said quietly. "And when she does turn up, Blackbeard will rue the day he even _considered_ crossing me!"

"That's the ticket, sir!" Smee said, bracingly, "and Cap'n, the men and I know how dispirited you've been since we lost her. We pitched in to get you a gift."

"Aye?" Hook asked, attempting to feign some measure of enthusiasm, "and what might that be?"

Smee gestured to the other side of the room, and a voluptuous beauty with curly black hair began seductively sauntering his way. They'd bought him a wench? What did he want with a woman when his ship, the only lady he'd cared a fig for since Milah's, passing was lost?

Still, it wouldn't do to refuse her in front of his men. He had a reputation to uphold after all. And so he pasted on a leering smile, took the lass's outstretched hand, and led her to the door. He smiled absently at her as he pulled the tavern door open. And then something hard and heavy connected with his head. He saw his whore scurry off into the night just before the dark claimed him and he fell insensible to the ground.

_Enchanted Forest present day._

Killian swam lazily up from the depths of sleep, feeling the languid contentment of a good night's sleep and the comfort of his wife's warm presence at his side. He looked over at Emma and smiled. She lay on her side, curled up, with her hands folded primly under her head. She looked so young, happy and content it was all he could do to keep from kissing her breathless. But, alas, his love had been so fatigued lately, so nauseated, he simply didn't have the heart to disturb her slumber.

He satisfied himself with brushing her tangled blonde hair from her face and gently kissing her forehead. Leaning down, he placed his hand on her nightgown-clad stomach.

"Good morning, little one," he whispered with a wistful smile. "What say you take pity on your mum today, aye? Allow her a little peace."

The sun burst forth from behind a cloud illuminating the bed and his small family. It was an angelic sight. How had he managed to be so blessed? He certainly didn't deserve it. Hook pushed aside the covers, got to his feet, and stretched idly, his eyes sweeping over the opulent bedroom, and suddenly he froze.

There, on the night stand, propped up against the oil lamp stood a single piece of velum. It was folded in two and bore his name. A feeling of foreboding stole over him.

Who could have stolen into his and Emma's bedroom during the night to leave the missive? Killian slept as lightly as a cat. Had anyone crept into the room, he would have heard them.

With a slightly shaking hand, Killian reached for the letter. He had the crazy feeling that whatever was written on this letter would change his life forever. Slowly, deliberately he unfolded the missive, smoothing it with his stump. And then he began to read.

_Captain Hook,_

_I've waited long, far too long for this day. Your crimes, your sins, your injustices cry to the very earth to be avenged, and I will be the man to avenge them. I will take great pleasure in ridding the world of your worthless carcass._

_As you well know, I hold the outlaw's child as my prisoner. Should you agree to meet me, give yourself up to me, I shall release him to his father's loving arms. Have you any pity for a young mite who is frightened and missing his family? Dare I hope a sodding blighter such as yourself has even an ounce of compassion within your black soul?_

_No matter. Even should you find it impossible to do the honorable thing for the sake of a young child, I'd wager you would for the pretty blonde piece of fluff who sleeps at your side. You see, I will get my vengeance come what may. Doubt me not. Should you refuse my request, I will take your wife. Know this, she will be begging for death before I am finished with her._

_So it's your choice: shall I kill you or your wife?_

_Here are my demands. You will report this morning to the ship docked in the harbor. You will come alone without sword, hook or any other weapon. You will not fight me, but take your punishment like a man. You will tell no one of your plans, and certainly not your blonde witch of a wife. Be aware, her tricks and whiles cannot save your worthless hide this time. I've taken precautions to guard against her magic._

_I shall wait until noon at which time I shall determine you are naught but a worthless coward who is willing to stand behind the skirts of his wife to save his life. What befalls her will be directly on your head._

_Blackbeard_

Killian let the missive fall from suddenly nerveless fingers, his heart pounding so furiously he was surprised it didn't burst from his chest. He looked over at his sleeping wife, overwhelming fear swamping him. Not fear for himself, but fear for her, her and the tiny child that slept within her womb.

Come what may, he _must _protect them. Quickly, silently he began to dress despite the fact it was so early the sun had only just begun to rise. _I cannot be late_! The thought repeated over and over in his mind. The thought of defying Blackbeard, of going against his demands never even occurred to Killian.

What use would his life be if anything happened to Emma? His death, even his torture would be more than worth it if it kept her safe. She would grieve for him, but she would go on. If for no other reason, she would go on for that little life created out of their love.

Killian stilled as he threw his black, billowy shirt over his head. _Would she understand_? She'd been left, abandoned, thrown away so many times throughout her life it was what she'd come to expect from life. If she woke to find him gone without a trace would she think he left her as well? Would she think he no longer wanted her?

Perhaps he should leave her a note, tell her what had happened. He dismissed the thought almost before it was formed. Blackbeard had been quite clear that Killian should tell no one; he couldn't defy the demon, couldn't take the chance he would make good on his threat against Emma. Though his heart hurt at the thought of Emma's heartbreak, it was far preferable to her torture and death.

Tears in his eyes, he padded to Emma's side of the bed, smoothed his hand over her silky hair, bent down and softly kissed her. "Have faith in me, my love," he whispered brokenly, "there's nothing in this world or any other that would induce me to willingly leave you."

With one lass kiss to her lips and another to her belly, Killian straightened and resolutely walked from their bedchamber.

_Notes:_

_-Well, that was certainly a rough chapter for Hook/Killian. Blackbeard got the best of him in both timelines!_

_-Up next: For the time being, I must leave you in suspense about who knocked Hook out and what's next to happen to him in the past timeline (although if you watched season 3, you've probably seen where this is heading. The parallels to 3x17 are deliberate). The next chapter will focus entirely in the present timeline. What exactly does Blackbeard plan to do to Killian? Will he tell him exactly why he's so consumed with thoughts of vengeance against him? How will Emma react when she awakens to find Killian gone? Will it be like Killian feared? Will she believe he abandoned her? Will she discover what _really_ happened in time to save him?_


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

Emma awoke on that most fateful day utterly unaware that anything was wrong. True, Killian wasn't beside her, but that wasn't anything unusual. The crazy man _liked_ the early mornings. In the six weeks or so they'd been married, Emma had learned that Killian was the earliest of early birds. He'd told her he liked the brisk morning air, the sight of the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon, the hope and promise an early morning brought. It was the time of day when he felt most _alive_.

Personally, she thought he was insane. Sleep was good. Sleep was _very _good. Yeah, she could appreciate a good sunrise as well as anyone else, but come on! If it was a question of watching the sunrise or catching another hour of sleep, well there was no contest.

It was kind of weird Killian hadn't come back to their room, though. Normally, he got up, did_ whatever_ crazy pirates did at the crack of dawn, and then he came back to their room, full of energy and raring to go for the day ahead. Sometimes he _tried_ to let her sleep in, but usually he just couldn't help himself. He'd make noise or open the curtains so that the light fell directly on her face, or—her personal favorite—occasionally he'd kiss her awake. Of course those mornings he usually ended up _back_ in bed with her rather than pulling her out.

Emma laughed as she pulled her clothes on. He was such an adorable idiot sometimes. She remembered taking him and Henry to see _Frozen_ last year, and some mornings she half expected Killian to jump on the bed and ask "Do you want to build a snowman?"

But this morning he'd done nothing of the sort. Maybe he'd wanted to let her sleep. The baby was making her so tired all the time she often felt like a walking zombie. Staying away and letting her sleep was the kind of thoughtful thing Killian would do. When she found him, she'd make sure to let him see just how grateful she was for his kindness.

As Emma walked down the dimly-lit hallway toward the stairs, something nagged at her, some sort of half-forgotten dream. Killian had been upset about something; she heard pain in his voice. What had he said? Something about not wanting to leave her? It left a bad taste in her mouth. It was the kind of dream she'd get when she was PMSing and the slightly sick feeling would stick with her all day. Of course, PMS wasn't the problem now; maybe it was just the pregnancy hormones.

Anyway, she'd find Killian, see that he was _not_ in pain—either physically or emotionally, get a good-morning kiss, and know that all was right with the world. Well, except that Blackbeard had kidnapped Roland, and Ursula was apparently trying to take over the world or something. But, honestly, ever since she'd first come to Storybrooke, that was pretty much just a normal day in her life.

Emma found her mother, Regina and Belle seated at the far end of the dining room table, but Killian was nowhere in sight. Well, that was weird. Normally, even when he didn't wake her up in the morning, she could find him at the table waiting to "dine with the fairest lass in all the realms" as he liked to say.

"Morning Emma," Snow called cheerfully, " have a good night's sleep?"

"Yeah," Emma said, seating herself next to her mother and nodding her thanks to the servant who brought her a heaping plate of breakfast. "Like a baby. How about you."

"Ugh!" Snow said, caressing her belly, "whoever coined the phrase 'sleeping like a baby' clearly was never pregnant. I don't think your little brother stopped moving around all night!"

"He's just preparing you for motherhood," Regina said listlessly. "Trust me. That first year with Henry, I felt like I barely slept a wink."

"It does get easier, though, doesn't it?" Belle asked anxiously, pushing around her mostly-full plate of food. "You do get used to less sleep?"

"Yeah," Regina shrugged. "You get used to it. Why?"

"Well," Belle said with a little blush, "it turns out Rumple and I have some news. We just found out our first baby's on the way!"

"Congratulations!" Snow got slowly to her feet and hugged Belle.

"Must be something in the water around here," Emma said under her breath.

Snow gave her a penetrating look. "What was that, Emma?"

"Oh nothing," Emma said with a wave of her hand, "just trying to imagine Gold as a father. That ought to be interesting."

"He's over the moon," Belle gushed. "You know how much he loved Bae; how hard he fought to get back to him. Now he gets to start over with a new baby."

"I'm glad for you," Emma said with a smile, thinking about how ironic it would be if Hook's child and Rumple's child became playmates. "I know you'll make a wonderful mother."

"So will you," Belle said, taking Emma's hand. "You and Killian will be amazing parents when it comes time for you to start thinking about becoming pregnant."

"Speaking of my husband, anybody know where he is today?"

Snow shot her a startled glance. "No. I haven't seen him all morning; I assumed he was still in bed."

"No," Emma said, fighting against the worry. "He was gone when I got up. Maybe he's hanging with dad."

Snow shrugged. "You can go check. Your father's with Robin in the stables. Said he thought Robin's leg was healed well enough to start riding again. I doubt it, personally; he still looked pretty pale and he grimaced with every step he took. Maybe Killian joined them."

….

He wasn't with her dad and Robin. They suggested she try the lists where the Camelot knights were honing their swordsmanship skills. No luck there either.

"It is but odd, my lady," Sir Lancelot said. "Your husband was to meet us just after breaking his fast this morning. We were to train together so as to be prepared for the battles that no doubt await us."

"What about you, Gawain?" Emma asked, turning toward Killian's father. "Did he say anything to you about where he was going?"  
Her father-in-law wiped his brow with a massive hand, his eyes perplexed. "Not a word. I can't account for it, daughter. Since we've returned to this kingdom, there's not been a morning my son hasn't sought me out."

The worry inside began to morph into full blown fear. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong. What would make Killian disappear without a trace, without a word to anyone?

"I hate to even mention the possibility, Buttercup," her foster father, Sir Galahad, said, "but might he have met with foul play?"

Emma's heart pounded and she tried desperately to keep the panic at bay. Finally she shook her head. "I don't think so. I would have heard if anyone attacked him in our room, and no one else seems to have seen or heard anything from or about him. I think if he'd been accosted or something _someone_ would know about it."

"Isn't it obvious, Dearie?" Rumple said with a wave of his hand. It was positively freaky how quickly and quietly that imp could materialize in Fairy Tale Land!

"Isn't _what_ obvious?"

"He's not here," Rumple said, holding up one finger, "he didn't tell anyone where he was going," two fingers, "and he didn't meet with any foul play," three fingers. "What does that all add up to?"  
"Look, Gold," Emma said, crossing her arms and giving him the evil eye, "I'm not in the mood for riddles. My husband could be in trouble, so if you know something, tell me. Otherwise stop wasting my time."

Rumple giggled. "Testy this morning aren't we?"

"_We_ are going to feel a lot better after _we_ plant our fist in your face!" Emma said menacingly.

"I see the good captain's been teaching you his peculiar lack of manners."

Emma growled, and Rumple sighed.

"Very well," he said finally. "If Hook isn't here, didn't tell anyone where he went, and didn't meet with foul play, than he obviously left of his own accord. I knew married life wouldn't fill his fancy for long. It was only a matter of time before he left you, dearie."

For a split second, Emma's heart dropped to her very toes. Was it possible? Had Hook left her? Was he like everyone else in her life; throwing her away?

And then reality descended, and she shook her head. "No," she said firmly. "Look, I know you two are probably going to hate each other until the day you die, and I know you're always going to think the worst of him, but no. If there's one think I'm absolutely sure of in this life, it's Killian. He'd never leave me, so whatever the explanation for his absence, that's not it."

"Are you sure about that?" Rumple asked with an infuriating smile.

"One-hundred percent," Emma said with a decisive nod. She knew he'd never leave her…especially now, especially with the baby.

The three knights from Camelot crowded around her. "If there's anything we can do to be of assistance to you, please tell us, my lady."

"Thanks, Lancelot," Emma said, "but right now, I don't even know where to start. I have this terrible feeling that my husband is in some kind of serious trouble, but I don't even know what it is, let alone where to find him."

"Don't fear, Emma," Gawain said with a comforting hand on her shoulder, "we'll get him back. All will be well."

….

By the time night descended Emma was beginning to doubt it. Killian had never showed up, never left word. It was as though he'd disappeared from the face of the earth. What could have happened to him?

She paced her bedchamber. Everyone else had gone to bed for the night, but she couldn't sleep, not knowing something terrible might have happened. As she walked past the bed for the hundredth time that night, something caught her eye. Something metal shoved behind the headboard. Emma stooped down to investigate. _His hook and his sword!_ For a moment absolute panic took hold. He left without any weapons with which to defend himself? Something was terribly wrong.

And then she saw it, a single sheet of paper lying negligently just beside the nightstand. She picked it up and began to read. As the words began to sink in, she fell to the bed in shock. He'd gone to Blackbeard. He'd gone alone and unarmed. Oh God, he was offering himself up for slaughter to protect her!

She surged to her feet. She had to stop this! She couldn't let him die for her; she didn't want to live without him. Emma buckled Killian's scabbard around her waist and stuck the sword inside, then she ran for her bedroom door.

Should she wake someone? No, she decided finally. There wasn't time to explain the situation. She'd leave the note on the dining room table. Someone would find it in the morning if they weren't back. That would have to be good enough.

Pushing aside the fear that was clawing at her throat, Emma pulled open the great hall door, and ran into the waiting darkness.

….

Blackbeard paced the deck of the ship's ruin docked in an out-of-the way cove along the shore. This was it. After so many years of planning it, so many years of dreaming about it, he was finally going to get his vengeance. Hook would come; Blackbeard knew it. He would do _anything_ to protect that wife of his.

He was about to get exactly what he wanted. Why wasn't he more elated? As he waited, watching the brilliant sunrise, a tiny kernel of doubt crept in. Was he really doing the right thing? Pirate though he was, he'd never before killed a man in cold blood. Aye, there'd been the occasional enemy he'd slain, but it was always in the context of a fair fight, and it only occurred when Blackbeard's life was on the line.

But to meet with a man with the express purpose of killing him? No, that had never happened. It sounded dishonorable, _evil_ even.

And then came the doubts. Once he'd killed Hook, what would he have gained? It wouldn't bring Anne back. When all was said and done she'd still be dead.

The vision of his sister reduced to skin and bones, pale and weak with fever came back to him, and with it the rage returned. Yes revenge was worth it! Yes he needed to do this. His carefree, fun loving sister deserved her brother to avenge her death. What manner of man would he be if he let the miscreant who had ruined his sister's life go free?

Blackbeard retrieved the scroll from his breast pocket. Unrolling it, he read the words, and then sprinkled the liquid from the small bottle to which it was attached. An orange shimmer surrounded the ship for a second before it disappeared. Good. He'd just ensured he and Hook would not be disturbed…at least by anyone magical. Even if Hook's wife did follow him, her magic would be ineffective against the anti-magic shield he'd just cast over the ship.

"It would seem you've gone down a bit in the world, Blackbeard, if all you can find to captain is a dried out shipwreck."

Blackbeard spun around, heart pounding. There he was, Captain Hook, his mortal enemy.

"The level of my prosperity should be the least of your concerns, ye scurvy snake!" Blackbeard snarled.

Hook crossed his arms and smirked. "Now, now, captain, is the name calling really necessary?"

Blackbeard glared but did not acknowledge his question. "You came alone? Unarmed?"

Hook spread his arms wide, and Blackbeard noticed the lack of scabbard, the stump at the end of the left arm. He'd followed directions. Good. That would make this that much easier.

"Let's get on with it, then," he growled.

"A moment," Hook said, and Blackbeard noticed a steely glint in his eye. "If I'm to offer myself up to you, I have a few demands of my own."

"I hardly see where you are in any position to make demands," Blackbeard sneered.

"Nevertheless, I intend to make them. You will leave my wife and her family alone and unmolested."

Blackbeard nodded. "I will grant this request. It's not your wife I have a quarrel with."

"Secondly," Hook said, "I wish to know what quarrel you have with me. What have I done to offend you to such an extent you would return from the grave to attack me?"

"You pretend ignorance?" Blackbeard scoffed. "After what you did to Anne, you really deign to ask me what my quarrel is with you?"

Hook looked genuinely puzzled. "Anne? Who is Anne? I don't know anyone by that name."

"Maybe not," Blackbeard said angrily, "maybe you remember her as Tiger Lily."

Hook paled and took a step back.

"Ah," Blackbeard said with a grim smile, "I see you do remember her."

"Aye," Hook said in a firm voice, "she was a bar wench that I…knew…long ago."

Blackbeard growled. "Anne Teach was no bar wench! She was a respectable woman. My sister deserved far, far better than a low account scoundrel bedding her and then treating her like a common whore!"

"Your sister?" Hook asked. "Tiger Lily is your sister?"

"Was," Blackbeard said roughly. "Tiger Lily _was _my sister. Because of your dishonorable, unmanly treatment of her she is dead!"

"Dead?" Hook asked, distress entering his eyes. "What do you mean, dead? What happened to her?"

"Weeks after your taking of her virtue, she found herself with child."

Hook gasped. "I have a child?"

Blackbeard glared malevolently at him. "No, you do not! Six months after being tossed out on her ear for being a 'loose woman,' I found my beautiful sister dying of pneumonia. She passed away only hours after I found her; her and her babe."

….

Killian stepped back, reeling from the blow, as sharp as a physical blow would have been. He'd gotten a young woman pregnant! He'd taken her virtue, destroyed her life, left her to be abandoned by her caretakers to such a degree that she died of neglect—she and his tiny son or daughter. Waves of sorrow and guilt crashed over him.

"I…I'm sorry," Killian said lamely, so stunned, so distressed he hardly knew what he spoke.

Blackbeard laughed harshly. He stepped forward, balled up his fist, and punched Killian so hard that for a moment he saw stars. "You think I can be mollified by a simple 'I'm sorry'? You killed her! My beautiful vibrant sister! You utterly destroyed her."

Killian could hardly breathe. Many times in the years since he'd met Emma, he'd taken a look in the mirror and regretted the man he used to be, but never did he regret his action more than now. God above, he'd been such a cad! He'd _known_ the girl was a virgin. He'd _known_ she wasn't who she claimed to be. He _knew_ she had little idea of what she was really doing, what kind of fire she was really playing with back in that tavern. Yet he, consumed with his own misery, his own selfish urges, had ignored the honorable voice in the back of his head screaming at him to leave her alone.

And because of that she was dead. Not just her, but his baby. Oh, God, he'd had a child, and the child had died because of his negligence!

"I would have aided her," Killian said in a strangled voice. "I was a cad, a scoundrel, but if I'd known about the child, I'd have done whatever was necessary to make sure your sister had all that she needed."

"She needed an honorable man that wouldn't use her like his own personal plaything!" Blackbeard shouted.

Killian dropped his head and nodded silently.

"Enough of this!" Blackbeard thundered. "The time has come for vengeance. I will avenge my sister!"

Blackbeard grabbed Killian's arm with an iron grip. Too shocked to protest, Killian followed the other man below deck where a large glass box stood.

"What do you intend to do to me?" Killian asked.

"I intend to kill you in the best way possible for a pirate, the way you intended to kill me," Blackbeard said, opening the door in the box and shoving Killian inside. "I intend to drown you."

Blackbeard attached a long hose to the top of the box, and slowly sea water dripped in. "It's quite fitting, really. It'll be hours before the box has filled. You'll have plenty of time to think about what you've done; plenty of time to let the regret eat you alive before the water covers you and slowly takes your rotten, miserable life."

Blackbeard stepped away. "I'd love to stay and watch, but alas, my employer has need of me. Never fear. I'll be back later this evening to enjoy your last gasping breaths."

And with that, the pirate left, and Killian began his escape attempt. He pounded at the glass, kicked at the latch on the door, but it was to no avail. His small, glass prison was unbreakable. Finally giving up, Killian let his head drop back against the back wall and watched bleakly as the water continued to pour in.

….

Emma combed the beach for what felt like hours before she finally found the shipwreck. The night was so dark she'd almost missed it entirely.

"Please, Killian," she muttered under her breath, "please be here! Please be alright."

It had been hours since her husband had received the note, hours since he'd stolen from the castle to meet with Blackbeard's demands. Panic threatened to overwhelm her. Whatever Blackbeard had planned to do to Killian, surely he'd long since done it. Oh God! What if she hadn't made it in time? What if she went on board only to find her husband's bloody corpse? She couldn't lose him, not yet, not so soon. This would kill her!

Emma realized she'd been standing still, merely staring at the ship for ten minutes, and she mentally shook herself. This was no time to get hysterical. Her husband needed her help, and she was damn well going to give it to him, not stand around like some stupid damsel in distress and lament about her lot in life!

Emma carefully climbed aboard, and looked around. The deck looked deserted, and there was no sign of a struggle. Had she found the right ship?"

"Killian!" she yelled, "Killian, are you here? Can you hear me?"

She heard a muffled sound coming from somewhere below decks. She rushed forward, carefully descended the ladder, and the sight that met her eyes nearly made her heart stop. There he was, standing in some sort of glass box… a glass box that was quickly filling with water. Already the water had reached his chin. He was tipping his head up so as to keep as much of his face as possible out of the water.

Emma saw the moment Killian noticed her. His eyes widened in shock and distress. "No, Emma!" he shouted. His voice was muffled by the thick glass, but he shouted so loudly she could hear him clearly. "Lass, you must flee! He'll be back any moment. He mustn't catch you here!"

Emma shot him an annoyed look. "You're crazy if you think I'm just going to turn around and let my husband be drowned to death."

"Please love!" he said intently. "Please! He'll kill you. My worthless life isn't worth risking yours!"

Emma turned her back, not even bothering to respond to the idiot man. She scanned the small cabin, looking for something, _anything_ that she could use to break the glass of Killian's prison. At first glance, she didn't see anything, but then she noticed a loose timber along the far wall.

Running forward, she grabbed the timber and pulled, ignoring the splinters that dug into her palms from the rough, old wood. After several tugs, the long beam came loose. Feeling victory, Emma rushed forward as quickly as she could, given the awkwardness of the heavy beam she carried. She'd just reached Killian's prison, when he shouted her name in panic.

She looked up to see stark fear in his eyes just before she realized they were no longer alone.

"I think not, my dear," an angry voice growled just behind her left ear.

Emma spun around, and found herself face to face with Blackbeard himself. She didn't think, just reacted. She swung the beam with all her might, connecting with his head. Connecting, but then passing straight through, apparently doing nothing to harm him. _What the hell?_

She closed her eyes, focused on her emotions, tried to drown out her husband screaming at her to run, and sent a blast of magic in Blackbeard's direction….but nothing happened. For the first time fear began to coil deep in her stomach.

She should be concerned for her safety, but in the moment, all she could think of was her husband, slowly drowning behind her. Emma turned her back on Blackbeard, and swung the beam toward the glass tank, but the pirate grabbed the rough plank of wood before it could connect.

Emma was beyond thought, beyond reason. She had only minutes to save Killian. No chance in hell she was going to let an undead pirate stop her! She fought back, swinging her fists, kicking her feet, reaching for the beam.

The pirate seemed unsure just what to make of her. He didn't actively attack her, merely parried her blows in the way someone might swat at an annoying gnat buzzing around his face.

It happened so fast, she didn't even see it coming. Somehow, in the struggle, Blackbeard swung the beam around and caught her at the waist. She went flying backwards and crashed through the rotting boards of the wall.

Emma vaguely heard Killian screaming her name just before everything faded to black.

_Notes:_

_-Probably not the smartest thing Emma ever did to go after Killian on her own. Now both she and Killian are in a world of hurt. Sorry for leaving you on such a suspenseful note, but I promise to get to chapter 20 as soon as possible._

_-Not that you care, but a small piece of personal trivia: I identify much more with Killian than with Emma when it comes to early mornings. If I sleep until 8:00, I feel like I've REALLY slept in._

_-Up next: Not quite a year before the first curse, we meet back up with Hook, who's just left the pub and been knocked out by a very angry red-headed mermaid. In the present day section, the rest of the gang at the castle find Blackbeard's note where Emma left it. Can they make it in time to save the Joneses?_


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

_Enchanted Forest, not quite a year before the first curse_

Hook slowly woke, becoming gradually aware of the rough ground below him, the chill in the air, the throbbing pain in the back of his head. _Bloody hell!_

Something hard and sharp was against his windpipe, and suddenly he remembered where he was, what had just happened. He'd led the bar wench from the tavern and then _something_ had hit him. He opened his eyes, and then swore loudly again. A woman was lying on top of him—and not in the good way. Her long red hair fell to his chest, her eyes crazed and angry, her hand holding a dagger to his throat. _Bloody hell!_

"What exactly is it you want, love," he drawled, trying to ignore his pain and his less than dignified position.

"Where is he?' she demanded in a furious voice. "What have you done with him.

He eyed he suspiciously. What in all the realms was the harpy talking about?

"Just who do you think I've taken, lass?"

She dug the dagger deeper, and Hook felt a sharp pain as the instrument bit into his skin. He growled, glaring at her in a way that had made grown men quail.

"You know full well what I mean!" she said, apparently not intimidated in the least. "Where's Prince Erik?'

"No idea," he drawled. "If you've lost your lover, darling, perhaps you'd do better to look to yourself for the fault. Men generally tend to dislike their women to hold sharp objects to their throats."

"Don't play stupid!" the woman shrieked. "It won't work with me. For the last time, _where have you taken him_?"

Hook was growing tired of this game. It had been quite the difficult few weeks, and this was quickly becoming _too much_. Raising his hand, he easily knocked aside her hand and the dagger she held to his neck.

"Careful, love," he growled threateningly, "have you any idea who you're dealing with? I'm not accustomed to let anyone, man or woman, hold me at knife point."

"Oh I know exactly who you are, _Captain Hook_," she spat the name as though it was the vilest of obscenities. "And you don't intimidate me. I know you've taken him prisoner. I _saw_ him on the _Jolly Roger_, the ship _you_ captain."

Ignoring the back of his head that throbbed with every beat of his heart, Hook moved swiftly. In one fluid motion, he'd flipped them, landed on top of the red-head, and placed the dagger to her throat.

"What do you know about the _Jolly_?" he asked, a note of crazed anger entering his voice.

Her eyes widened in fear. Good, the daft woman was finally starting recognize her danger. She remained silent.

"I asked you a question!" he thundered. "The _Jolly. _What do you know about her?"

The woman's moment of fear passed, and a look of determination came back into her blue eyes. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a small mirror. "I saw her in this," she spat. "Not a day past. I saw my prince tied up on _your ship_! Now, tell me what you've done with him or I swear, I'll slice your throat open like a fish!"

Hook laughed humorlessly. "Hardly in a place to make demands, darling, considering _I'm_ holding the knife to _your_ throat."

"Doesn't matter!" she said contemptuously. "I'll find a way. I'll save my true love if it's the last thing I do!"

Hook applied a bit more pressure on the dagger and the woman gasped. "That would be hard to do, pet if you are dead."

Her eyes widened, the fear apparent. "I…I don't know anything about your ship," she said tremulously, "only that my Erik has been taken aboard."

"Where is she?" Hook demanded, pressing his advantage. "Where is my ship?"

"You don't know?" she asked shrilly.

"Obviously," Hook said in frustration. "If I knew where she was, I wouldn't need you, and I would have long since slit your throat. I don't suffer anyone to best me and live to tell the tale."

She gasped and looked anxiously into his eyes, then she relaxed. "No, I don't think you would have," she said reflectively. "You may be a pirate, but you wouldn't stoop to murdering innocent women in cold blood."

"I might debate the word 'innocent', given you threatened to kill me," he said. "Nevertheless, as I do need you and I have decided not to kill you—yet, perhaps it would be best if you give me a name with which to call you. I'd wager 'duplicitous bitch who tried to kill me' wouldn't be to your liking?"

"Ariel," the woman said, "and since you're not going to kill me—yet, would you mind moving the dagger from my windpipe?"

Hook got up and offered his hand to help Ariel to her feet. "Now lass, suppose you tell me _how_ you know your lover is being held on my ship."

Ariel tapped the mirror still in her hand. "The Evil Queen enchanted this mirror with a locator spell. All I need to do is look into it to see where my Erik is."

Hook grabbed at the delicate mirror Ariel held, but she pulled her hand out of his reach. He growled. "My mercy and patience only extend so far, lass. I'll have that mirror!"

She shook her head and took a small step back. "It'll do you no good," she said. "The mirror's been enchanted to show _me_ my true love. It won't work for you."

Hook lunged once more for the mirror, and this time succeeded in wrenching it from the young woman's hand. He peer intently into its depths, and then cursed. The lass was speaking the truth. All he saw within the mirror was his own angry visage.

Ariel stepped forward, and plucked the mirror back from him and shoved it into a small purse she wore on one shoulder.

"As it turns out, Captain," she said, crossing her arms over her chest, "I have a proposition for you, one that I think will be mutually beneficial."

"Aye?" Hook asked skeptically, "and just what might that be."

"I'll lead you to the _Jolly Roger_, if you help me find and rescue my Prince Erik."

Hook eyed the woman uncertainly for long moments, and then spoke. "Suppose we retrieve the _Jolly_, and then take it from there."

"I'll have your word you'll help me!" Ariel demanded.

Hook shrugged and leaned lazily against the wall. He was well adept at poker; he was nothing if not able to pull off a good bluff. "It makes no difference to me, love," he drawled. "The _Jolly _will turn up one way or another. I'll find her with or without your help. Are you willing to take the chance that the same can be said of your lover?"

He watched the uncertainty creep into her eyes. "Fine," she said after a moment. "I'll lead you to your ship. I'll leave the rest to your sense of honor."

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

Charming woke suddenly. What was that noise? It sounded like the slightly squeaky hinges on the castle's main door.

Carefully, so as not to disturb his peacefully sleeping wife, he jumped from the bed, threw on a dressing gown, grabbed his sword, and headed out of his chamber door.

Stepping out into the dimly lit hallway, Charming stood still, listening intently. Not a sound could be heard. Had he imagined it? Given the threats that were constantly facing all of them, he decided he would do best to do a sweep of the main floor just in case.

He moved methodically from room to room, sword held out before him, ready for attack. As he passed through each room in turn, his relief steadily grew. Must have been something he dreamed.

He walked slowly through the dining room, and was just about to sheath his sword and return to bed when the sheet of paper on the table caught his eye. Curious, he picked it up and began reading.

His heart pounded. Blackbeard had lured Killian into his trap! Surely, Emma hadn't read this and gone after him alone. Surely she wouldn't do that! Fearing that was precisely what happened, Charming took the stairs two at a time and sprinted down the hallway, stopping directly before Emma and Killian's chamber.

He raised his fist and pounded on the thick, heavy door. "Emma!" he shouted, heedless of the hour or the many people in chambers throughout this corridor who were presumably sleeping.

There was no answer. He pounded again. Still no answer. Charming took a deep breath and turned the knob. It took less than a second to scan the chamber and determine it was utterly deserted.

Charming ran back to his room and found Snow sitting up in bed, a confused, concerned look on her face.

"What's wrong, Charming?"

Charming thrust the letter at her and quickly began dressing. He heard his wife gasp. "She went after him didn't she?"

"I think so," Charming said, pulling on his heavy boots. "Neither she nor Killian are in their room. I'm going to go after them. I pray I'm not too late."

Snow got awkwardly to her feet and reached for her clothing.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Getting dressed," she said with determination. "You'll need help. My bow can come in handy."

He stilled her with a hand to her shoulder. "Honey, you're nearly eight months pregnant. I need you to stay here; keep our baby safe."

She looked mutinous for a moment, and then dropped her head. She nodded almost imperceptibly. "Yeah. I guess you're right." She looked up, and her eyes blazed with an expression so intense it was classic Snow White. "But you can't go alone! Blackbeard can't be beaten with your weapons. You need help."

Charming nodded. "I intend to ask Rumple and the Camelot knights to join me."

"Sounds good," Snow said. "Let's go wake everybody up."

As it happened, waking everyone proved to be unnecessary. The commotion Charming made running through the hall, pounding on doors and yelling seemed to have done the job already. When Snow and Charming stepped outside their chamber door, they found the entire household awake and standing outside their doors.

"And just what is so urgent that you felt the need to rouse everyone from their sleep, Dearie?" Rumple snarled.

"We've got a problem," Charming said.

Regina sighed. "Why am I not surprised?"

As succinctly as possible, Charming explained the note he'd found and his fears for Killian's and Emma's safety.

Regina sighed heavily once again. "Just like Emma to go charging off, guns blazing without thinking of the consequences! Just give me a moment to get dressed and I'll be ready to come with you."

Charming eyed he gratefully. "Thanks, Regina," he said, "but I think it would be a bad idea for you to come along."

"And just why is that?" she asked defensively.

"You're Blackbeard's target as well," Charming said simply. "Coming along would be too dangerous. We need you for the big fight with Blackbeard and Ursula whenever that happens."

"You _need _me," Regina insisted stubbornly. "That sword at your waist isn't going to be worth a damn against Blackbeard. You _need_ a practitioner of magic."

Robin stepped painfully forward. "I must echo the prince's concern, my lady," he said gently. "Confronting Blackbeard is simply too dangerous."

Charming watched as Regina's eyes softened at Robin's concern. Maybe things were finally starting to thaw between the two of them.

"Fine," Regina said, "I'll stay. You want to go in there and offer yourself up for slaughter? Be my guest."

Belle gave her husband a significant look, and he sighed. "You needn't go alone. I'll provide you magical cover."

"Thank you!" Snow breathed earnestly. "We were hoping you would."

"And we are at you service as well, your majesty," Lancelot said, stepping forward. Sir Galahad and Sir Gawain nodded behind him.

"I would offer my bow as well," Robin said, "but I fear in my current state of health I would be more of a hindrance than a help."

"Thanks for the offer Robin," Charming said, "but you'll be of more help here protecting the castle."

"Be assured my men and I will die before letting any harm befall your wife or unborn child."

"He'll have my magic as well," Regina said firmly.

"Thank you," Charming said earnestly. "Now, let's go save the savior."

….

"No!" Killian screamed as he watched Emma hit the far wall and disappear from view. The water had reached his mouth now, and his shout was garbled. He began kicking and banging on the glass once again, cursing the sea water that cushioned his blows.

He had to get out of here! He had to. It had been five minutes and Emma had yet to emerge from the ruined wall. The water approached his nose. He had only minutes now. He fought on for another two minutes, and then finally began to despair. There was no way out. He had failed in his most important job as husband and father. He had failed to protect his wife and child.

Killian turned burning eyes on Blackbeard. The man stood still, peering at him with an inscrutable look. He seemed almost…uncomfortable…with the turn of events. Burning anger warred with Killian's panic.

"Save her!" he begged. "Let me die, but save her!"

The water swallowed Kililan's words, Blackbeard continued standing impassively, Emma never emerged, and Killian's lungs were beginning to burn from lack of air. At long last, he let go of his last shred of hope.

And then something strange happened. Killian saw an odd green light coming from the stairs leading to the deck. A moment later, chaos erupted. The Crocodile emerged, shooting magic at Blackbeard. Charming and the knights of Camelot surged in behind him, carefully skirting the two men already locked in battle.

"Where is she?" Charming asked, looking around desperately. Killian pointed in the direction his wife had fallen, and he saw Charming nod and hurry off in that direction. His vision was starting to darken. He'd be unconscious soon.

Suddenly, there was a crash, and Killian was falling forward, dropping amid flowing water and broken glass. He pulled in desperate lung-fulls of air, grateful beyond words for his life. After several moments, several gasping breaths, he became aware of a large, steady hand on his back. He looked up, to find himself looking into the concerned blue eyes of his father.

"D…da," he said breathlessly. "You saved me."

Sir Gawain gently pulled him to his feet, and wrapped his arms around him. For a moment, Killian clung to his father, fighting against the tears of relief that threatened.

After a moment, he pushed away and surveyed the scene around him. The room was a waterlogged mess, scattered with broken glass and rotting wood. Blackbeard had disappeared, apparently having somehow escaped the Crocodile.

"How did you do that?" Killian asked his former nemesis. "He enchanted the ship to repel magic."

"Not even a challenge, Dearie," the Crocodile said lazily. "As soon as Charming showed me Blackbeard's letter, I saw he talked about guarding against Emma's magic, and I knew what he'd done. His spell was so weak I could have taken it down in my sleep."

"Thank you," Killian said, extending a hand to the Crocodile. The other man looked startled for a moment, and then he gave Killian's hand one small shake.

Killian looked around, once more, desperate for news of Emma. Sir Galahad and Charming knelt next to the wall where Emma had disappeared. Both men, both of Emma's fathers looked inside, silent and still. Fear blossomed inside Killian's chest. Why weren't they moving? Why weren't they helping Emma out?

Suddenly he rushed forward, desperate to reach his wife, desperate to see for himself that she was alright. She had to be alright; that was the only outcome he could accept.

Charming turned around just as Killian reached the ruined wall. Charming's face was pale and grave, and Killian's fear spiraled.

"Mate," Killian said in a shaken voice, "is she…"

"No," Charming said firmly, placing a comforting hand on Killian's shoulder. "She's still alive, but…Killian…prepare yourself. It looks bad."

Killian nodded, and pushed forward, forcing himself to look. She lay in an awkward heap, legs bent beneath her. She was pale as death, but worse by far was the blood. There was so much blood; she lay in a pool of it.

"Get her to help," Killian ground out brokenly. "Please, save her."

….

Killian sat next to the bed, his head bowed, his single hand gripping hers like a lifeline. She was alive. There was that, at least. Friar Tuck had worked over her for long minutes, finally giving her a sleeping draught.

"She'll need her sleep, my lad," the friar said gently. "She must rest and let her body heal. It would be better by far for her to be stronger before she learns the news."

The news. Killian let go of Emma, and placed a trembling hand on her belly, above her empty womb. The baby was gone, killed sometime in the midst of Emma's skirmish with Blackbeard. A tear escaped Killian's closed eyelid and tracked raggedly down his cheek. He and Emma's child, the fruit of their love, was dead.

Friar Tuck had actually been relieved when he'd learned there had been a baby. Terrible as the loss was, at least it explained the blood Emma had lost.

She would be devastated. When she awoke and learned what had happened, he shuddered to imagine her reaction.

The agony welled up within him. The baby was dead and Emma was only tenuously clinging to life. If he lost them both…the possibility wasn't even worth considering. It would crush him.

_My fault, my fault_! It kept repeating like a refrain in his mind. He'd failed Emma; he'd failed them both. If only he'd been a gentleman all those years ago. If only he'd taken Tiger Lily under his wing, gotten her back to her guardian. If only he'd exercised self-restraint and refused what she'd offered. If only he'd learned about the baby, had a chance to help her, take care of her. If only he'd hidden Blackbeard's note better this morning. If only he'd done _something _ to make sure Emma wouldn't follow him to the ship's ruin.

So many 'if only's. So many terrible, despicable choices he'd made in his life. But he wasn't the one to pay the price. No. His beautiful Emma, their baby, they were the ones who suffered.

It was almost suffocating, the torture he was feeling. He had to do something! There had to be something! _You can make him pay_, a seductive little voice whispered in the back of his mind. _You can go back to Blackbeard and exact your vengeance._

He'd given up his vengeance against the Crocodile two years ago, given it up for Emma. It had been the right choice, the only choice. He'd come to realize that killing the Crocodile would do nothing to bring Milah back. Fulfilling his quest would not bring him peace, only more emptiness.

He should run from the very thought of the vendetta he was contemplating against Blackbeard, but God help him he couldn't. His pain was too raw, his loss too recent. Emma was so weak and fragile in that bed, and it was anyone's guess whether she would even survive the night. It was bad enough he'd failed to protect the most precious people in his life; what manner of a man would he be if he let the monster who harmed them get away?

And as quickly as that, the rage rose up and tossed aside the pain, the agony and the guilt. Killian stood, leaned over to place a quick kiss on Emma's still lips, reached over to the night stand, and snapped his hook into place. This ended tonight!

Quietly, so as not to disturb his wife, Hook stepped from their room and shut the door. Face grim, he turned around…and ran right into Charming.

"Killian?" the prince asked, "what are you doing? What's going on."

"I'm off to plant my hook right in the middle of Blackbeard's filthy heart," he spat, trying to step around his father-in-law.

Charming planted his feet, refusing to move. "I can't let you do that."

The storm clouds crowded across Hook's brow. "Stand aside, mate," he growled. "I will have my vengeance!"

He shoved Emma's father, and the prince shoved back.

"I know you're hurting," Charming said. "You've suffered a great loss, but Emma needs you! Hunting him down won't help her heal, won't bring your baby back."

"Bugger off!" Hook nearly yelled, "Charming, it's your _grandchild_ he killed! It's your _daughter_ who even now lies at death's door. You want me to just let him get away with this?!"

Charming placed a firm hand on Hook's shoulder, and met his eyes squarely. "I am every bit as angry as you. If the son of a bitch was standing here in front of me, I think I could tear him apart limb from limb with my bare hands. But vengeance isn't the answer! Surely you've learned that after spending three hundred years in a futile chase for it."

He was right, Hook knew he was, but the rage had taken over, and he was almost beyond reason. "So we just go about our merry way, letting him attack our women with impunity?"

Charming growled in frustration. "No!" he said urgently. "Killian, I swear to you on my life that we _will _find him. We _will_ bring him to justice for his crimes. You have to trust me. But going off in a murderous rage is not the answer. In his current untouchable state, you cannot defeat Blackbeard. You go up against him now, all that will happen is that he will kill you."

"So be it," Hook said defiantly, but indecision had begun to creep into his voice. "If I must die, at least I will do so fighting for the woman I love."

Charming laughed humorlessly. "A damn lot of good that will do her!" he said bitterly. "_Think_ Killian! When Emma wakes—not _if _she wakes, _when _she wakes—she will need you more than she's ever needed you before. She'll need your love and support through the difficult days after she learns about the baby. The last thing my daughter needs is to be abandoned by someone else she loves."

"I'd never abandon her!" Hook thundered.

"But isn't that what you'd be doing if you went off half-cocked and Blackbeard succeeded in killing you?"

It was true. Everything Charming said was true. Suddenly the fight went out of Killian, and his shoulders drooped. "I know," he whispered.

Charming patted him on the back, and Killian saw the tears in his father-in-law's eyes. "I'm sorry this happened to you, to Emma," Charming said, letting a single tear slide down his cheek. "Snow's a mess, and I'm not doing so well myself, but we'll get through this. We're a family, and I promise you, we'll find a way through this."

Killian nodded, his throat constricted. "Thanks, mate," he said tightly.

"Don't mention it. Go on. Get back to your wife."

Killian nodded, and headed back to Emma's bedside.

_Notes:_

_-Oh, that was just plain sad—but at least I didn't leave you in suspense very long after that last chapter!_

_-Obviously the back in time section was inspired by 3x17._

_-As far as the present day section goes… I didn't want to make Emma lose the baby, I really didn't, but I somehow had no choice. The muse insisted. In each of my non-fluffy stories there's been one or two things that I just knew from the beginning _had_ to happen, and try as I might (and I usually did try, because they're usually things I really don't want to have to do), I just can't _not_ write them. It's just the way the story goes. Killian and Emma losing the baby was just one of those times. There is one more thing near the end of the story that the muse insists upon—but don't worry, this is actually a _happy_ event!_

_-One more little note on names. I have been very deliberate throughout the story in when I call our favorite pirate "Killian" and when I call him "Hook." He turned briefly back into Hook at the end of this chapter when he _almost_ went back to his old ways of vengeance. Good thing Charming was around to talk him out of it!_

_-Up next: Not quite a year ago in the Enchanted Forest, Ariel leads Hook to the _Jolly Roger_ (now the _Queen Anne's Revenge_), and Hook and Blackbeard have their first confrontation. In the present day, Emma wakes, and she and Killian deal with the death of their first child. Sounds pretty depressing, I know, but things will get better._


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

_Enchanted Forest, several months before the first curse_

It had taken them several weeks, but they'd finally found her. They'd finally found his beautiful, beloved lady.

"Fear not, sweetheart," Hook murmured softly from his perch behind several barrels on the dock. "Soon enough you'll be back in my loving arms."

Ariel made a disgusted sound beside him. He looked over at her in time to see her theatrically rolling her eyes. "You act like she's a woman," she said contemptuously. "She's just a ship, captain."

The outrage welled up. "She's not just a ship!"

And she wasn't. The _Jolly _was his home, his family, his last link to those he loved who had been ripped from him. When he was reunited with her all would be well. He'd sail to port near the village Cora had told him about. He would insist Cora include the _Jolly_ in the protection spell she planned to cast to guard against the Evil Queen's curse.

When the time came for the curse to be broken, Hook would be ready. He'd find a way—somehow—to the Land Without Magic, the land where the bloody Crocodile was powerless. Then he'd take great pleasure in driving his dreamshade-laced hook into the demon's perfidious heart!

Aye, it was all coming together. A few more months of waiting, a few years of being frozen in time, and he would get his revenge. Then this emptiness, this hate, this terrible pain would be expunged from his heart. He'd be sated and happy.

"What's the plan, Cap'n?" Mr. Smee asked from beside Hook.

"We take back the _Jolly,_" Hook said simply.

"Well, technically," Mr. Smee said, "she's not the _Jolly_. She has a new name now. She's the _Queen Anne's Revenge_."

Hook glared at his first mate in outrage. "I care not with what a thieving murderous scoundrel defaced my ship! The _Jolly Roger_ she's always been, and the _Jolly Roger_ she will remain."

"Well, to be fair," Smee said, "she was the _Jewel of the Realm_ before you commandeered her for your pirate crew."

The glare Hook sent Smee's way was so cold, so furious, that the smaller man took a step back and dropped his eyes. "I…I mean. You're right, Cap'n. Of course you're right. She's always been the _Jolly_, she just didn't know it when she was trapped within the evil king's navy."

Beside him, Ariel giggled. He shot the glare in her direction. The fool of a woman didn't have the sense to even drop her smile. Hook sighed to himself. How had he gotten himself into this predicament? Surrounded by idiots who seemed to have nothing better to do than infuriate him.

"If you're both quite finished driving me nearly daft," Hook said coldly, "what say we discuss our strategy for retrieving my property?"

"Yes," Ariel said, moving slightly on the balls of her feet, reminding Hook of an eager little puppy. "What's the plan?"

Hook thought for a moment. They were dreadfully outmanned. It was him, his worthless sycophant of a first mate, and a red-headed shrew of a woman who likely couldn't fight to save her bloody life. Them against a brutal, blood-thirsty pirate crew. He didn't like the odds; he didn't like them at all.

But get the _Jolly _back he would if he had to fight every bloody man jack aboard his ship single-handedly! He smiled grimly to himself, seeing the humor in the fact that no matter who or how many he fought he must do it single-handedly, thanks to the Crocodile.

"Our best strategy is to appeal to Blackbeard's honor as a pirate," Hook said finally.

"You mean you think we should ask him to give the _Jolly _back to us because she's ours?" Smee asked with a furrowed brow. "You think that will work?"

Imbeciles! He was surrounded by imbeciles. Hook took a deep breath. "Mr. Smee," he said with as much patience as he could muster, "kindly refrain from opening your mouth unless you can improve the silence with something of intelligence. Of course we don't ask for her back! We _demand_ he return her."

"You think he'll let her go just like that?" Ariel scoffed.

"Of course not!" Hook yelled in a frustrated whisper. "When he refuses, I challenge him to a duel, personally. Were he to refuse, he would stand before his crew as a sodding coward. When a captain has lost his credibility with his crew, he's lost everything."

"Hey, that's a pretty good plan, Cap'n!" Mr. Smee said with a grin.

Hook merely rolled his eyes.

"What do you want us to do?" Ariel asked.

"Stay out of my way."

Hook waited, biding his time until the time was right. The crew was busy, loading the ship, preparing to sail. Blackbeard stood alone at the prow looking out over the ocean, a contemplative frown on his face.

This was it; it was now or never. Hook swiftly rose to his feet, unsheathed his sword and leapt onto the _Jolly_'s deck with a shout.

Blackbeard looked startled for a second, and then smiled ferally. "Captain Hook," he said contemptuously, "so we meet at last."

"Aye," Hook said with a nod. "You've taken something of mine, and I demand you return her."

"Oh you do, do you?" Blackbeard spat, drawing his sword. The two men began circling each other, and Hook noticed the crew members who had begun lining the deck watching the interplay. "'Tis nothing but justice, _Captain_. You've taken something of mine, something that can never be replace."

Hook lunged, and Blackbeard easily parried his blow. "What the bloody hell are you on about, Blackbeard?"

"Anne!" Blackbeard thundered. "You took Anne."

_Um, what?_

Hook grinned, taunting him. "I've taken many a lass. Can't say I recall an 'Anne.' Must not have been memorable, that one."

Blackbeard growled, and struck out. Hook caught his blow with his hook. The hit was so hard, shock waves traveled from his hook clear to his left shoulder. Whatever his opponent believed Hook had done, he was bloody furious.

"Excuse me!" the red-headed shrew piped up. "You have Erik; please give him back!"

Was she serious? Had she even a scrap of a brain in that empty head of hers? She was stepping into the middle of a _pirate dual_ and politely asking for her lover to be returned?

It appeared Ariel had succeeded in flummoxing Blackbeard as well. He stopped mid swing to peer at her in astonishment.

"What are you on about wench?"

"Erik, Prince Erik of a nearby maritime kingdom," she said calmly. "You've kidnapped him, and I demand his release."

"I'm not in the habit of releasing hostages simply because a lovely lass asks it of me," Blackbeard said with a frown.

"I can pay you," Ariel said, stepping forward earnestly. "Name your price; I'll pay it. Nothing is more important than the life of the man I love."

Hook rolled his eyes.

Blackbeard gave her a speculative look, and then bowed. "Allow me to sweep my deck free of the _vermin_ that is currently fouling her, and then we may be able to come to an agreement."

"By all means," Ariel said, stepping back and folding her arms across her chest. Hook gave her an incredulous glare. The deceitful shrew was changing allegiances just like that? Then again, what did he expect? They harpy had admitted she was a mermaid; none of her kind could be trusted!

With that the dual recommenced. The two men were quite well matched, fighting, circling, leaping. Hook's muscles began to scream. When had he ever met such a formidable foe? It soon became obvious that the victor would not win on skill, technique and endurance alone. Wit and strategy were no doubt to play a vital role. And here, Hook had a distinct advantage. He knew his _Jolly_ like the back of his hand.

Hook pressed his advantage, going on the offensive. He slowly moved Blackbeard back, back, until he was positioned where he wanted him. With one last violent jab, Hook forced Blackbeard to step onto the loose, rotting board that Hook had been meaning to replace. With a shout, Blackbeard crashed through the floorboard, and his foot became irretrievably lodged.

Victory surged through Hook. He had him! Within moments, he succeeded in disarming his opponent, and placing the tip of his sword flush against Blackbeard's Adam's apple.

Blackbeard grinned grimly. "Get on with it you great lecherous codfish! Run me through; kill me just as you did Anne!

_What was the daft man _talking_ about? Hook had never killed a woman in his life!_

Ariel took advantage of Hooks confusion and stepped forward. "Wait! What about Erik! Where is he? How can I get him back?"

Blackbeard turned back toward Hook and definitively grinned. "My dear, you've made a definitive error entrusting your lover's well-being to Captain Hook. If I die, so does Erik, lost and alone on a deserted island that no one will _ever _find. So what will it be, Captain? Will you give me my life and your ship, or will you utterly destroy another young woman's life?"

Hook glared at him and for a moment remained silent in indecision. Ariel once again stepped in.

"Please, Hook!" she begged. "He's my true love!"

Keeping his sword against Blackbeard's neck, Hook deliberately turned his head and sneered at Ariel. "I came to take back my ship; and take her back I shall!"

"Please!" she begged. "Isn't true love worth more than a few planks of wood and a sail?"

True love. It was fleeting, torturous. If the lass had wished to gain his sympathies, she'd chosen precisely the wrong tack. "I'm doing you a favor," he growled. "Love brings nothing but pain and endless torment."

Hook nodded to Smee to bind Blackbeard's hands, then, ignoring the mermaid's cries and pleading, he led his adversary to the plank, slashed his arm, and pushed him forward into the waiting depths. Blackbeard would spend his last, gasping breaths discovering the mysterious fathoms below.

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

It was a grim assembly that met for breakfast two days after Killian and Emma were rescued. Defeat had settled upon the group like a cloak. Had they finally come against an enemy that they couldn't take, an enemy who wouldn't stop until he utterly broke all of them?

Snow White looked around the group through burning, gritty eyes. She'd barely slept last night, worried beyond reason about Emma, about Killian. Sad beyond words about the loss of her grandchild.

She put a hand on her belly and felt her tiny son, kick in greeting. The tears threatened again. How was Emma to recover from this blow? Snow couldn't even imagine how much loss, emptiness and torment she would have felt if this baby had been ripped from her months ago, before she'd even felt him move within her.

Charming reached down and clasped her hand. He knew; he understood. He was still reeling from the blow just as she was. She squeezed gently.

"How's Emma this morning?" Belle asked, breaking the stilted silence.

Snow shrugged. "About the same. Friar Tuck is still giving her the sleeping potion. He says peaceful rest is her best hope of recovery."

"She will recover, Snow," Belle said firmly. "She's young and strong. She will get over this."

"Not to mention the fact that Mrs. Jones is far too stubborn to let a villain attack her and her family without making him pay for it," Regina said.

Robin Hood smiled briefly, and met Regina's eyes. The queen dropped her gaze and blushed slightly. Snow supposed she would probably find the little interplay quite interesting if she wasn't so utterly devastated with her own misery. If she didn't miss her guess, the outlaw and the queen would be back on their true-love footing sooner rather than later.

"Oh he'll pay," Charming said, setting his jaw firmly. "He will face justice for the pain he's caused; the lives he's ruined; the baby he's killed."

Charming's voice faltered slightly on the last word, and Snow squeezed his hand once more in sympathy.

"How precisely do you propose to make him pay, dearie?" Rumple asked sarcastically. "It seems to me he has us over a barrel. We cannot fight him with weapons. We could destroy him with magic, but if we do so, we've no way to find Roland. We don't even know where he _is_ and have no way to find him until he contacts us."

"Are you suggesting we _give up_?" Regina asked in outrage. "Roland is still out there, suffering God only knows what! This monster must be stopped, and that little boy must be rescued. You can run away with your tail between his legs if you want, but I'll fight to the death before I'll stop looking for Roland!"

Robin's eyes softened even further. "You will not be alone, my lady," he said gently. "My wounds heal more every day, and soon I will be as fit as anyone to go to my son's rescue."

"We'll rescue him together," Regina agreed.

A troubled look came into Robin's eyes and he visibly withdrew. Regina sighed and turned sad eyes back to her breakfast. Well, they'd come a long way, but it seemed the outlaw was not yet ready to cavort too closely with Regina.

"Well, as touching as that is," Rumple drawled, "I believe you've missed my entire point."

"What's that?" Charming asked.

"I wasn't suggesting we _give up_," Rumple said. "I'm the Dark One. 'Give up' is not in my lexicon. I was merely bringing a little reality into our discussion."

Snow's eyes hardened. "I think we've all had about as much 'reality' as we can stomach over the last few days," she snapped. "You don't need to tell me just how dangerous and elusive this enemy is. I have a daughter barely clinging to life and a son-in-law nearly prostrate with grief and fear that tell me that quite eloquently!"

"If you would let me finish, dearie," Rumple said, "It's not my intention to rub your pain in any further. I wanted to recap where we are so we can move forward with a new plan."

"What's that?" Belle asked, taking her husband's arm.

"We cease sitting around and waiting, and we start taking the offensive."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Regina asked. "We don't even know where he is."

"We know he's under the sea," Rumple said. "We know he's being held by Ursula. Perhaps when our little mermaid returns from her vacation with her father, we can send her on a little covert mission of our own. Perhaps she can keep her ears out for any information regarding Ursula and her pirates. Knowledge is power, Dearies, and once we have a useful source of intelligence under the sea, we'll have all the knowledge we need to utterly decimate our enemies."

"Never thought I'd hear myself say this," Charming said with a wry smile, "but Rumple, I like the way you think!"

….

Emma slowly climbed her way out of her drug induced sleep. The first thing she noticed was the pain. Her abdomen was screaming at her. Gradually she became aware of other, smaller pains. Her head dully throbbed; various bumps and bruises nagged.

But there was something more than the pain. There was a strange feeling of…emptiness. It was as though she'd lost something infinitely precious. What was it?

She opened her eyes and found herself lying in her bed at the castle. What was she doing here? She struggled to remember what had happened to cause her the pain she was feeling, and suddenly it all came rushing back. Blackbeard's note. Going to save Killian. Seeing her husband about to drown in a booth of water. Fighting with the pirate.

Killian! She turned her head swiftly, praying she would find him lying next to her on the other side of the bed, but when the dizziness of moving her injured head too quickly faded, her heart dropped to her toes. But for her, the bed was empty.

No!

Emma heard a rustling near the door, and a moment later her mother walked in carrying a tray laden with soup and a glass of water. Snow White smiled and rushed to the bedside.

"Emma! You finally woke up. Thank God!"

Emma accepted the hug her mother gave her, patting her awkwardly on the back. "K…Killian?" she asked weakly. It was hard to talk through her parched throat.

"Here," Snow said, gently helping her sit and handing her the glass of water. Emma took small sips, grateful for the soothing coolness of the liquid. When she'd drunk her fill, she turned to her mother again.

"Please, mom, you have to tell me," she begged. "What happened to Killian? Did I get there in time?"

"Shh," Snow said, smoothing Emma's hair from her forehead, "he's fine, honey. He's just fine. Your father found the note not long after you must have left, and he gathered up a group to come after you. They made it just in time."

"So it's okay?" Emma asked anxiously. "Everything turned out alright?"

A shadow passed across Snow's face, and then she pasted on a hearty smile—a hearty smile that did nothing to reflect her true state of mind, if Emma was any judge. "It's better now," Snow said lightly.

That was…not a lie. She could see the truth in her mother's eyes, but also evasiveness. There was something Snow wasn't telling her. Unease began to creep into Emma's mind.

"Where is he?" Emma asked slowly. "Where is Killian? You're sure he's okay?"

"I promise, Emma, he's fine," Snow said firmly. "He's worried about you, but he suffered no lasting effects from his confrontation with Blackbeard. I sent him away to get some sleep. He's barely left your side since we brought you back. He probably wouldn't have even eaten if I hadn't practically forced him to."

"How long have I been out?" Emma asked curiously.

"Three days," Snow said. _Three days? She'd lost three days of her life?_ "Friar Tuck has been keeping you heavily sedated. You needed the time to heal and get your strength back."

"What exactly is wrong with me that I needed three days of drug-induced sleep to recover from?" Emma asked anxiously.

A look of deep pain crossed Snow's face again before she determinedly pasted on another smile. "You know what? I better go get Killian. He'll never let me hear the end of it if you woke and I didn't come to get him right away."

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. "Mom, what aren't you telling me?"

The smile faltered and tears came into Snow's eyes. "Talk to Killian, Honey."

And then she was gone, and Emma was left with the gnawing fear that had begun to suffuse her system. What could have happened that was so terrible that her mother couldn't even bring herself to tell of it?

A moment later Killian was there, sprinting through the room, sitting on the bed, taking her gently into his arms, and holding her close. "Emma!" he whispered brokenly over and over again. "Emma, love, at last."

Emma brought her arms around to clasp him to her. The movement, the way his body pressed against her stomach, hurt, but Emma couldn't find it in herself to care. He was okay; her mom was right. Relief coursed through her. If she'd lost him…the thought didn't even bear mentioning.

After long moments, Killian gently let her go and settled her back against the pillows.

"How are you feeling lass?" he asked anxiously. "Is the pain terrible?"

"Nothing I can't handle," she answered.

He nodded, and then leaned down to gently kiss her. She reached up to caress the back of his head, and the kiss went on and on. It was slow and gentle, suffused with incredible love and relief. After long moments, Emma felt wetness on her cheeks and didn't know if it came from her tears or his.

Finally he pulled away. There was something in his expression…something that chilled Emma.

"What's wrong, Killian?" she asked in a small voice. "I could tell there was something my mom wasn't telling me. Please. I have to know!"

Killian looked away for a moment and took a deep breath. Finally he turned back toward her and laced his fingers with hers. The look in his eyes was nothing short of devastated. Emma had a sudden childish desire to put her fingers in her ears; whatever her husband was about to say, it was bad. It was really bad.

"Love," he said in a broken voice, "When Blackbeard hit you, he did incredible damage. The baby…I'm so terribly sorry; our baby's gone."

No! What was he saying? Surely he didn't mean… "What do you mean, gone?" she asked in panic.

"Emma," he said, tears filling his eyes, "Friar Tuck did all he could, but the trauma was just too great. The baby didn't survive."

And then she broke. She bowed her head, and harsh sobs wracked her. She felt Killian lean over and take her into his arms, making vague sounds of comfort. She clung to him, but even his love could do nothing to soothe her.

There was no relief because this was _her_ fault. Her fault! Her baby was dead because of her. Only a week ago Killian had asked her to promise not to take any chances for the sake of the baby, but that's just what she'd done. Why hadn't she gotten her parents, Rumple, Regina, _anyone_ before she rushed off to save Killian? Why?

Killian held her, rocking her gently, stroking a soothing hand down her hair. How could he comfort her like this? _Her fault, her fault, her fault_!

He was in shock, grieving too. That must be it. Soon enough he'd come to realize he had her to blame for the loss of his child. He would turn from her, reject her. This time she knew she deserved it.

….

That night Killian shared the bed with Emma for the first time since the attack, but the two of them might as well have been realms apart. There was a distance between them, a distance that it seemed impossible to broach.

Emma had cried for what felt like hours that afternoon, mourning their child, but then she'd pulled away, dried her tears, and closed her eyes. He'd thought she was tired, exhausted from the pain, the emotion, the violence of her grief. He'd let her sleep, let her withdraw from him.

But from that moment, she'd been politely distant with him. She'd made no objection when he'd climbed into bed with her, but she'd not turned to him, she'd not snuggled against him like she normally did. She'd merely politely wished him a good night, turned her back on him and gone to sleep.

Killian's heart dropped. He knew why she was doing this; knew why she was painstakingly rebuilding that wall she'd had around her heart when they first met. It was because she blamed him. She knew it was _his _fault they'd lost the baby. He'd failed to protect her; to protect them both.

Killian ached to turn to her to pull her to him, to comfort her, get comfort from her, but he knew she would reject him, and he couldn't bear the thought. And so he turned on his side—away from her—and sighed deeply. He heard a suspicious sniff from the other side of the bed, and his guilt skyrocketed. Everyone he loved met with tragedy; he'd failed them all. Why had he thought his life with Emma would be any different?

_Notes:_

_-Sigh. Well, that was every bit as sad as the last chapter. I just want to reach into my own story and hug both Killian and Emma—and then shake them! Come on guys, communication is a good thing! Try it sometime! It's kind of killing me because both of them are hurting and they should be grieving their loss together, healing together. Instead they've each decided that the other blames them and wants nothing to do with them. Don't worry! The angst won't last long. They'll get through this. I think it's safe to say both CS and OQ have already hit their own personal rock bottom, so there's nowhere to go but up!_

_-The back-in-time section was obviously inspired by 3x17, although I tried to put my own spin on it. Incidentally, I decided I really couldn't write anymore stories featuring Captain Hook without having at least _someone_ call him a codfish!_

_-Up next: Several months before the first curse, Ariel realizes Blackbeard is her only hope to get to Erik—he also might be her best shot at fulfilling her end of the bargain with Regina, so she dives in after him. In the present day section, Robin is still plagued with memories and emotions connected to Regina. He's conflicted because she obviously loves him and his son…but she was sort-of responsible for Marian's death. He decides they really need to have a good heart to heart. (Excellent idea…one another certain couple ought to try! Yes, I'm looking at you, CS!)_


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

_Enchanted Forest, several months before the first curse_

"No!" Ariel screamed, watching in horror as Captain Hook drew his sword, sliced into Blackbeard's arm, and shoved his bound opponent into the sea.

Panic surged through her. This was her only chance to get to Erik, her only way of finding him! She _couldn't_ let Blackbeard drown, she couldn't!

"What have you done!" she screamed, running toward Hook.

A look of guilt quickly came and went across the pirate's face, but then it was gone. In its place was cold arrogance.

"I've done precisely what I set out to do, darling," he said defiantly. "I've taken back my ship."

"But Erik!" she pleaded, "my true love! Blackbeard was my _only _way to find him."

Captain Hook bent down and got in her face. "Your misfortune is not my problem," he said, deliberately enunciating every word. "My allegiance is with the _Jolly_, not with a bloody _mermaid_ who hasn't the ability to hold on to the man she purports to love."

White hot rage came over her. She took a step forward raised her hand and slapped Hook with as much force as her small frame could muster. In her normal state, she'd be horrified at the very thought. She'd just _assaulted_ a murderous pirate captain! But not now. No, now her fear, her anger, her panic were so strong that there was _nothing_ she wouldn't dare.

"Just how do you propose I find my love now?" she demanded.

"I don't bloody well care," he said, smiling coldly. "Perhaps you might try asking Blackbeard politely. That is, of course, if the sharks have left enough of him to question."

That…was actually a good idea. A very good idea. Perhaps she _could_ talk to him…and he was a pirate captain. Maybe, just maybe she could kill two minnows with one coral reef.

Hook stepped forward and roughly grabbed Ariel's arm. "A little advice love? Forget this Prince Erik and move on with your life. You'll be far more content. Love is the worst of curses."

"You know what?" she asked, angrily looking up at the captain and yanking her arm free. "You're wrong and I feel sorry for you. Your heart is so full of hate, you'll never know love. _That_ is the worst curse of all."

Hook blew out a long breath, and a look of pain crossed his handsome features. "Then it is a curse I willingly embrace," he said wearily. "Love of a woman is nothing but pain, and it is a pain I _never_ intend to experience again."

There was something so sad and pathetic in his expression that Ariel _almost_ felt compassion for him. Then she remembered what he'd just done.

"Enjoy your sad, miserable, lonely existence, then," she said contemptuously. "I for one know that true love must be fought for, and if it takes the rest of my life, I _will _find my Erik!" With that, she wrenched the cuff from her arm and felt her legs fuse together into her all too familiar tail. Not waiting for another response from the captain, she dove into the sea. Blackbeard had been under two or three minutes already; if she didn't find him soon, it would be too late.

Ariel swam steadily forward, swiveling her head back and forth. Where could he be? Tied up as he was, he couldn't have gotten far. She was beginning to despair of finding him when she spotted it: a cloud of red quickly spreading and dissipating. Blood. With a burst of speed, Ariel swam forward. This _must_ be where he went!

She found him moments later lying on the ocean floor. He was pale as death, his eyes wide and staring sightlessly ahead. Was she too late already? No! Failure was _not_ an option!

Ariel grabbed his arm and pulled. He was a large man, powerfully built, and Ariel never knew just how she managed to move him. Perhaps true love magic produced super-human strength.

Regardless, within seconds, Ariel had succeeded in dragging Blackbeard to the surface. With one last tug, she heaved the man's face above the water.

"Come on," she whispered. "Come on! Breathe!"

Nothing. Just the same vacant stare. No! She wouldn't lose him! Think! There had to be something!

And then it came to her. She remembered watching a ship glide past one day. There had been an accident. A young sailor slipped and fell overboard. Several of his mates dove in after him, eventually pulling him free of the murky depths. The sailor had looked much like Blackbeard did now.

Many on board shook their heads, looking grave, but the man's mates hadn't given up on him. What had they done? Oh yes. They'd run their hands roughly over the man's back from the small up to the shoulders. Water had gushed from his mouth, and a moment later, he'd coughed and gasped for breath.

Ariel turned Blackbeard until she was facing him, then she reached around and placed her hands on the small of his back and firmly pressed. The seconds that passed before Blackbeard woke were some of the longest of Ariel's life.

Finally, the man gasped and struggled in her grip.

"Be still," Ariel whispered urgently. "I'm trying to save your life!"

Blackbeard stilled, but continued to struggle for breath. He seemed in a far worse way than the sailor on the ship had been.

"L…lass," he gasped weakly. "saved me. Why?"

"I need you," she said briskly. "Now, listen closely."

He nodded earnestly.

"I know someone with magic, someone who can save your life. I'll take you to her if you tell me where Prince Erik is."

"H…Hang…man's I…Island," he gasped. "Off c…coast of En…chanted For…est."

"Thank you!" Ariel breathed, giving the pirate a small hug.

….

Two months. The mermaid had been gone two months. Regina began pacing her large, dark chamber once again. What if Ariel had double-crossed her? Regina narrowed her eyes. She'd filet the bitch! Then she'd heal her and filet her again!

What if it wasn't that Ariel had proven faithless? What if the mermaid was incapable of finding and bringing her a pirate captain? What would she do then?

Ursula was already breathing down her neck. More than once Regina had gotten the feeling of being watched only to find the old octopus herself glaring at her from a basin of water. It was positively unnerving!

Last week Ursula had paid her another "call."

"Taking your time dealing with my pirate problem aren't you toots?" she'd spoken from her bronze bas-relief.

Regina looked up in shock and dismay. Quickly she schooled her features. She was the Evil Queen! She didn't show fear to a _fish_!

"Cool your tentacles!" Regina said with a sneer. "I'm working on it!"

"Oh you're 'working on it', are you?" Ursula asked nastily. "Meanwhile, everyday I'm losing more and more…I mean, my patience is running thin!"

"Only thing about you that runs thin, apparently," Regina murmured under her breath.

Ursula surged forward. "What was that?"

Regina crossed her arms and gave her a contemptuous glare. "You heard me."

"Yeah, well, that's beside the point," Ursula said irritably. "I want my pirate captain, and I want him now!"

"Well you can't have him!" Regina snapped. "I don't have him yet, but I'll get him soon."

"You'd better, sweetheart," Ursula growled. "I'll be back in a week, and when I get here, you either have my captain or I make you into fish food!"

That conversation had taken place almost a week ago to the hour. What was she going to do?

"Pardon me, Your Majesty," Regina looked up at the deep masculine voice. One of her soldiers stood before her in a subservient bow. Impossible to tell who it was beneath that opaque black mask.

"Yes?" she asked shortly.

"A mermaid has shown up along the north shore, Madam," he said. "She demands to see you urgently. My men prepared to slay her for her insolence, but she insisted you would wish to hear what she had to say."

A strange mixture of relief and apprehension passed through Regina. Ariel was back. Did she come with good news or bad?  
"You were wise to listen to her," Regina said. "I have urgent business with the mermaid and had she been slain…well, let's just say I have ample room in my vault of hearts."

The man audibly swallowed. Good. Every once in a while it was useful to put the fear of God into her vassals. Kept them from getting ideas.

Regina rushed from her chamber, down the stairs and outside to the beach.

"Were you successful?" she demanded as she ran.

Her answer soon became evident. Ariel sat primly on the sand next to a man who was either unconscious or dead. She sincerely hoped for the former. Ursula hadn't told her what she wanted with a pirate captain, but Regina was willing to bet the palace whatever she had up her ugly skin-tight sleeve involved a _live_ captain.

"I brought you Blackbeard, Your Majesty," Ariel said, a note of triumph in her voice.

"Blackbeard?" Regina said with a large smile. "The most fearsome pirate on the high seas?"

"The very same," Ariel said with a nod.

Well, this was better than she'd expected. She'd not only be able to give Ursula a pirate captain, she'd be able to give her _the_ pirate captain…assuming he was alive, of course.

"What happened to him?" Regina demanded. "Is he still alive."

"Barely," Ariel said, leaning down to listen to Blackbeard's chest. "He had a confrontation with Captain Hook which ended with him walking the plank. I got to him just before he drowned."

"Perfect!" Regina said gleefully.

Ariel gave her an inscrutable glance. "Just what do you plan to do with him, Your Majesty."

"That is _my _business," Regina said haughtily. "Your business is to do my bidding, not ask questions."

"Well, I succeeded," Ariel said after a moment. "I 'did your bidding,' as you put it. Now will you let me go to my prince?"

Regina felt generous; she felt positively giddy. "I'll do you one better, mermaid," she said genially. She waved her hand and a wave of magic passed over Ariel. The mermaid looked up in consternation.

"What did you do to me?" she asked in a vaguely accusatory voice.

Regina sighed. Why did _everyone_ always believe she was doing terrible things to them?

"I didn't do anything _to _you, you silly girl," Regina said, patting Ariel on the head like a precocious five year old. "I did something for you. I gave you the gift of speed. You're now capable of swimming twice as fast as you were before. Between that and your magic mirror, you'll be back in your prince's arms in the blink of an eye."

Ariel's eyes lit up, and she surged to her feet. "Thank you!" she gushed. She threw her arms around Regina and hugged her exuberantly, then she pulled off her cuff, dived into the water, and was gone in an instant.

Regina sighed in relief. This was almost over. All she had to do was get this pirate to Ursula, and she'd be free of the creature forever.

But how precisely did one go about sending gifts to the bulbous witch? Ursula had always contacted her, not the other way around.

"Ursula!" Regina called in an authoritative tone. "Ursula, can you hear me? I've got what you've requested."

Nothing.

"My time is precious, Octopus!" Regina shrieked, "and I've no intention of wasting it on you! Get your enormous derriere here this instant, or I'll dump him back in the sea."

There was a sudden disturbance in the water like a large whirlpool. Suddenly Ursula arose from the midst of it in all her purple glory. "Cool your jets, queen," Ursula said. "I'm a very busy woman and I haven't got all day. What you got for me?"

Regina gestured to the bearded man lying on the beach. "He came to me nearly drowned, but he's still in one piece."

Ursula eyed the pirate gleefully. "Oh, he looks like a strong mean one," she gushed. "Perfect! And nearly drowned, you say? Couldn't be better!"

"Glad you approve," Regina said with a sneer. "If that's all, I demand you fulfill your part of the bargain. What have you learned about Snow White?"

"I got some pretty juicy gossip about that pale little broad."

"Is it gossip that will interest me?" Regina asked skeptically.

"You better believe it," Ursula said with a wink. "Seems little princess has fallen in love; thinks it's true love."

"And this helps my how, precisely."

"Seems to me, if you can get your hands on her lover boy, she'd do almost anything to get him back."

The wheels began turning in Regina's head. That could be just the information she needed. Maleficent had a sleeping curse, didn't she? If Regina could get her hands on it…and on Snow White's lover…she'd have her!

"Told you you'd like it," Ursula said with a smirk.

"Just who is the swain who has the misfortune of being loved by Snow White?"

"Prince James of King George's kingdom."

Even better! Word was that George was severely disappointed in his son and was actively looking for a way to eliminate him. Things were looking _way_ up!

"Thank you," Regina finally said primly. "You've been a great help."

"Glad to do it, toots. Nice doing business with ya."

Regina narrowed her eyes. "Don't expect a repeat. I'm not in the habit of giving in to blackmail."

Ursula cackled. "Don't worry your pretty little head. Soon enough I won't have need of your paltry powers."

_Enchanted Forest, present day._

Regina sat on the bench by the pond and primly arranged her skirt. It was a beautiful day, warm, but not stiflingly so. The birds sang, the water of the pond gently rippled, the breeze blew in the trees above. It would have been idyllic—but for the circumstances in her life.

How could she enjoy the weather, the beauty around her when her little boy was missing? How could she stand it knowing he could be being starved or tortured? He could even be dead for all she knew. Panic swarmed in her stomach like a hive of angry bees. She'd never felt so achingly helpless in her life.

A single tear tracked down her cheek and she angrily wiped it away. There had to be some way of getting to Roland. There had to be!

And if the situation of the son wasn't bad enough, there was the father. It hurt. It hurt so desperately to have Robin hate her so, shut her out, refuse her company on such a consistent basis.

It had seemed like he was starting to thaw in his attitude toward her. Yesterday at breakfast he'd vowed to help her find his son. There'd been almost a feeling of camaraderie between the two of them. Later that afternoon, she'd sought him out, tried to talk to him, and he'd totally, thoroughly, and completely shut her down. He'd been so cold and stern in his speech, she was surprised she hadn't turned to a block of ice.

He was her true love; the lion tattoo on his arm proved that. What would it take to get back on their blissful true love footing? What would it take to bring his true memories back?

Regina heard a shuffling set of feet and turned her head in his direction. There he was, her outlaw. He was so handsome, so beloved. She wished more than anything in this world—aside from Roland's safe return, of course—that he would take her in his arms, tell her it had all been a mistake, whisper those soft, gentle words of love that had tripped off his tongue so effortlessly a year and a half ago.

Robin approached slowly, almost hesitantly, his face troubled and perplexed. "My lady," he asked softly, "might I have a word?"

He looked so open, so mild, that it suddenly all became too much. The tears started flowing in earnest. Humiliated, she buried her face in her hands, wishing he would leave, not wanting him to see her like this.

She heard the bench creak as he sat next to her, and then his hand was on her shoulder. She didn't think, didn't consider the consequences; she just reacted. Turning toward him, she fell into his arms, burying her face in his chest, breathing in the scent that was uniquely Robin.

Robin sat stiffly for a moment, and then awkwardly patted her on the back. After a few moments, the worst of the emotions had passed, and Regina pulled away, scrubbed at her wet cheeks, and averted her eyes. Was it not bad enough she was miserable? Did she really have to make a complete fool of herself as well?

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I guess everything's just starting to get to me."

She risked a look in his direction from beneath hooded eyes. He was watching her sympathetically, she'd even say affectionately if she didn't know better.

"No need to apologize, my lady," he said gently. "_Everything_, as you put it has begun to feel a bit overwhelming. How is Lady Emma this morning?"

"Physically? I think she's healing as well as anyone could expect," Regina said, looking out over the water. "Emotionally? She seems to be in pretty bad shape."

Robin nodded. "I'm sure," he said in a voice laced with pain. Regina looked at him curiously. "I have some experience with the subject, as it happens. Before Roland, my Marian lost two babies several months before birth."

Regina shot him a stricken look. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

He shrugged. "It is the way of it sometimes, and the pain does ease with time."

"Robin," Regina said hesitantly. "I…I know this won't change anything, but I have to say it. I can't even begin to express how much I regret my…actions as the evil queen. I would give anything to take back what I did in Nottingham all those years ago. I wish to God I hadn't destroyed that village. I know that doesn't change the fact that your wife is dead or that your son has been without his mother, but I just needed you to know that."

This was it. This was the moment he would turn from her in disgust, in pain. This is the moment he would shout at her that he didn't care a fig for her pretty words. This was the moment he would walk away telling her he could never forgive her.

But that's not what happened.

There was pain in his face, but there was also acceptance. He gave a small nod. "I think I believe you."

"You…you do?" she asked, holding back tears by sheer strength of will.

"Aye," he said, nodding again. "I hear the sincerity in your voice. I don't know what's changed, but you're not the same angry, arrogant woman my men and I spent so much time and energy robbing. No offense meant of course."

She smiled ruefully. "None taken. I was quite the nasty piece of work. I suffered a broken heart under terrible circumstances when I was very young, and I allowed the event to turn me into…well, you know what I was."

"Aye," he said simply.

He was looking at her intently. She longed to know what he was thinking, what he was feeling.

"So," she said after several moments of silence, "you said you wanted to have a word with me. What did you wish to discuss?"

"Us," he said simply.

She drew in her breath swiftly, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest. "You remember?" she almost whispered it.

He shrugged. "Bits and pieces, but not the whole. I have so many questions, so many things I simply cannot explain. Sometimes I think the confusion is driving me mad."

"Ask me anything. If there's any way I can help you, I will."

He looked at her for several moments, and she sat still, accepting his scrutiny. "You really did love me, didn't you?"

The tears rushed to her eyes _again_. Really this was starting to get ridiculous! "I did," she said in a shaky voice. "I did, and I do. Robin, I will always love you."

He smiled, and brought his hand up to cup her cheek. Regina closed her eyes, and placed her own hand over his.

"Tell me," he said gently. "Please. Help me understand. All these thoughts, memories, feelings coursing through me. It is incomprehensible to me; how could I have found love with the woman who was responsible for my beloved wife's death? Tell me our story."

Regina nodded and opened her eyes. Robin dropped his hand from her face, but didn't pull back when Regina placed her own in his.

"It was a year and a half ago," Regina said softly. "I and the entire kingdom had just returned to the Enchanted Forest. My heart was broken. In order to save my home, Storybrooke, and its residents from becoming a villain's slaves, I had to destroy a curse I had cast in vengeance many years ago. My price was to leave my son behind with his birth mother, Emma Jones, as it turns out.

"The Wicked Witch of the West and her minions had overrun my castle, so we decided to take up residence at Rumplestiltskin's castle. The castle, it turns out, where you and your men were lodged."

"I remember that" Robin said softly. "I remember rushing into the hall and seeing you with my son. I remember, you took my breath away; you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen."

Regina smiled, and squeezed his hand. "When you learned who I truly was, you despised me, and I didn't even know why. I had no idea my…evil actions had had such ramifications. We decided to take up residence at Rumplestiltskin's castle. The castle, it turns out, where you and your men were lodged."

"I remember that" Robin said softly. "I remember rushing into the hall and seeing you with my son. I remember, you took my breath away; you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen."

Regina smiled, and squeezed his hand. "When you learned who I truly was, you despised me, and I didn't even know why. I had no idea my…evil actions had had such ramifications."

"What changed my mind?" Robin asked gently.

"We went on a quest together," Regina said, remembering the day fondly. "There was a potion hidden in my castle that could restore magic to Rumplestiltskin. You volunteered to help me. Unknown to both of us, Roland followed. Anyway, we got the potion, but the mission was a disaster. The Wicked Witch took Roland, and almost captured us as well."

"How did we escape?"

"I fought the Wicked Witch to give you a chance to get Roland to safety. You came back and saved me."

"That's what Belle was talking about, isn't it?" Robin asked, with a small smile. "She told me you saved my son's life."

"Yeah," Regina said, "I guess it is."

"So what happened to us?"

"You…you were grateful for what I did for Roland, and you kissed me,"

His thumb brushed against the back of her hand, and he cocked his head as if trying to remember.

"It was…" Regina said, blushing slightly, "incredible. It was the moment I knew that I felt something more for you than I'd felt for anyone since Daniel. Anyway, we knew we couldn't return to Rumplestiltskin's castle. The witch was furious with us, and if we returned, we'd be putting everyone there in danger. So, we took up residence in Friar Tuck's cottage."

"And," he said, "in our seclusion as a small family we slowly fell in love?"

"Yes," Regina breathed. "Yes. They were the most wonderful months of my life."

She looked up and noticed that Robin had drawn closer. They were mere inches apart. Regina raised her face, and looked into his beloved eyes. "Robin," she whispered, her heart pounding.

He leaned forward, and closed the last bit of distance between them. When Robin's lips met hers, Regina knew that for the first time in nearly half a year, she was _home._ She wrapped her arms around his neck, and deepened the kiss. He sighed, slanting his head to the side for better position, tangling his fingers in her dark hair.

A burst of energy passed through them, and suddenly Robin gasped and pulled away. His eyes were startled, shocked, and for a moment Regina feared he would reject her again, but then he spoke.

"Regina," he whispered, his eyes shining. "I remember. I remember everything!"

_Notes:_

_-Ok, somehow I posted an entirely different story as chapter 22, so here's attempt #2! Sometimes I just think my computer hates me-and my phone, which seems to always think it's in Denver even though I live in Indiana! (but I digress)_

_-Yay! I got to write a happy chapter! The CS angst was starting to bring me down._

_-So, back in time, Ariel saves Blackbeard and gives him to Regina—who gives him to Ursula._

_-Meanwhile, in the present, Robin and Regina share a TLK, and Robin gets the rest of his memories back!_

_-Up next: This chapter will be entirely in the present. In the first section, Blackbeard feels guilty for what happened to Emma; he'd never wanted to hurt her. He begins to rethink his alliance with Ursula (well, technically, since he's her slave, he has no choice, but he hasn't been actively trying to undermine her). He goes to his old mentor, Hornigold, for some advice. Meanwhile, Emma is physically much improved, but she's devastated about the baby, and about her belief that Killian blames her. She goes to her father for advice—and he gives her some really good counsel. Yay Charming!_


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

_Waters off the Enchanted Forest, present day_

Blackbeard collapsed onto his bunk, clasped his hands at his knees and hung his head. How had it come to this? _What_ had he become? God above, he'd just harmed—maybe even killed—a woman! It didn't matter that she was Hook's woman; it didn't matter that hurting her may have hurt him more than anything Blackbeard could have done to the man himself. She was innocent; he had no quarrel with her.

Blackbeard was thankful that he was the captain. As such, Ursula had afforded him the luxury of his own stateroom within her castle. He needed to be alone now, alone with his failure, with his doubt, with his guilt. It wouldn't do to have his crew—even a crew of slaves—see him like this.

The memories kept repeating over and over again. The blonde woman attacking him, the struggle, him twisting to avoid her punches—and inadvertently striking her with the heavy beam, her crashing through the wall. And the blood, all the blood that had surrounded her.

Though the waters had nearly covered him, Hook kept shouting for her, begging her to come back to him, yelling about 'the baby'. So it was worse than Blackbeard had even believed when he'd first begun to fight the woman. She was with child.

He might have just killed a woman who was with child! A silky, seductive voice in the back of his mind whispered that it was nothing but sweet justice. An eye for an eye. Blackbeard had been listening to that voice far too much since Anne's death, but suddenly it sickened him. His quarrel was with Hook, not with Hook's wife and unborn baby. With that single act tonight, he had proven that he was no better than the man who had killed his sister!

"Captain?" came a voice from the other side of his door.

"Aye?" he asked woodenly.

"Ursula's calling for you."

_Lovely_. Just what he needed, a confrontation with the old hag!

He sighed. "Very well. Tell her I will be with her momentarily."

Blackbeard walked to the small table where he kept his washbasin and pitcher. What exactly was the purpose of the items? He lived in a pool of water! He leaned against the table and looked into the oval-shaped mirror that hung on the wall above. A pale face and haggard eyes met him.

He was less than the shell of the man he once was, the man he wanted to be. Oh, he could blame Ursula and her damn soul-harvesting spell, but it was more than that. He'd expunged all the honor he'd once had, replaced it with hate. The ends _did not_ justify the means, not when the means included attacking pregnant women.

Best he meet up with Ursula sooner rather than later. She'd sent out her sycophantic eels on a quest for more souls to steal. It meant she was weakening; far more than she'd want to admit. She would be at her weakest now before she had a fresh infusion of power. Perhaps he'd succeed in besting her tonight.

"Captain, Captain," Ursula said, shaking her head and pasting a sad pout on her ugly face. "Such a long face! I take it your little revenge mission didn't go the way you wanted it to."

"It did not," he ground out.

"Such a shame," she said with stunning insincerity.

"Indeed," he ground out.

"It seems I did you quite the favor bringing you here," she smirked. "You're not worth a damn on land. There you are, all undead and untouchable and everything, and yet you've been bested—twice—by mere mortals!"

"Was there a reason you called me here other than to taunt me with my failures?"

"Taunt? Moi?" she asked, a fat, well-manicured hand coming dramatically to her chest. "I'd never taunt you. Nope, just pointing out reality. You're a failure; might as well give up and get it over with."

Anger rippled through him. "I fail to see where you have room to talk about my failure! If I'm not mistaken, you've been after the trident for a good thirty years, and yet here you are, rapidly draining of your powers, no nearer your prize than you were then. You've gotten nothing but more gray hair and significantly more body fat."

She got up in his face, anger setting her dwindling magical powers surging threw her. "You'll shut your trap if you know what's good for you, you ugly little glow worm!"

Blackbeard crossed his arms over his chest and threw her a sardonic smirk. It seemed to infuriate her even more, and her hand shot out. The magic spell that was no doubt meant to deliver an excruciating blow to his face, felt like little more than the playful boxing of a de-clawed kitten.

She growled. "Where _are_ those slimy fish when you need them? I sent them out after my souls _ages_ ago, and yet have they returned? No, of course not. Meanwhile, here I languish, not even able to punish my slaves properly!"

Blackbeard rolled his eyes. "Have you finished with your pathetic attempt at a villainous monologue?"

"Not even close!" she shouted, a fleck of spit landing on his face. He reached up and flicked it away in disgust. "Just you wait, pirate-pants! Just you wait! Once I've gotten that trident, I'll make your life a living hell. I'll take over the sea, then I'll make my way through the land. Hell, with the mermaids at my disposal, I can even go conquer other realms! There won't be a land or sea you can go to escape me."

Oh wasn't that a lovely thought!

"So," she continued, obviously attempting to regain her temper. "Are you with me? What've you come up with as far as Operation Crash Ariel's Wedding, Steal the Trident and Take Over the World is concerned?"

"Ursula," he said drily, "I've got to commend you on your subtlety with regard to the naming of your mission—no one would ever guess what you're up to."

"Who cares if they do?" she asked. "They tick me off too much, I'll just take their souls. So how about it? Got the plan worked out yet?"

How thick did she think he was? She threatens to make his life a living hell and then demands he provide her with the blue prints with which to do so? Stupidity wedded to arrogance with a dash of absolute power was a frightening combination!

"If you'd leave me to my chambers where I can think straight, I might be able to provide you with a plan that much more quickly, "

"Oh don't tell me you were down there furiously working on plans for me," she scoffed. "I know better. You were down there crying your eyes out because your hunk of a nemesis escaped your clutches _again_."

He gave her a cold smile, determined not to rise to her bait. "Regardless, I'm getting nowhere with your plan while you stand there mocking and insulting me, now am I?"

"Guess not," she said glumly. "Alright, go ahead, do your thing. But no funny business, bucko! I'm warning you!"

"And you have me quaking in my boots, madam," he drawled.

She growled. "Just go before I forget I'm a lady and do something I'd regret."

….

Early the next morning, Blackbeard walked confidently along the deserted cobblestone road of the village. Escaping from Ursula's clutches had been almost embarrassingly easy this time. He'd crept from his state room a good two hours before dawn and listened carefully until he heard Ursula's snores from her suite at the end of the hall. Good grief! That octopus could give a freight train a run for its money when it came to the noise of her snores; it was a wonder he got any sleep at all!

If Ursula had been awake, her power would have been sufficient to stop him, but with her asleep, creeping from the castle had been ridiculously easy. He'd slowly eased the heavy front door open, and stepped out, feeling a slight tug as he passed the threshold. If Ursula had been at the height of her powers, the spell at the door would have been unbreakable. If he'd tried to take a step from the door, it would have tugged him back and thrown him into the entrance hall. As it was, the spell was little more than a momentary hesitation.

Last night Blackbeard had paced the floor for hours, disturbed beyond words at the situation he found himself in. He was consumed with guilt and regret over what had happened with Hook's wife, of course, but there was more than that. Ursula was changing. When he'd first been captured, her whole reason for being seemed to be amassing wealth and luxury. She had no real desire for power other than the way it could help her in the pursuit of her hedonistic agenda. Now…well, now things had changed. She'd begun to lust after the power as much as the luxury

He'd seen it before during his years as a pirate. He'd seen it many times. Men would start out with altruistic intentions, but then they'd acquired some measure of power, and little by little it had seduced them until it consumed them.

Ursula had always struck Blackbeard as ridiculous, far too stupid to be a true threat, but now…if she got that trident…it would be disastrous. It had taken Blackbeard all of fifteen minutes after his audience with the sea witch yesterday to decide he had no intention of willingly helping her anymore, but what was he to do? Aye, he could escape her for a day or two at a time, but she held his soul; he could never truly break free.

Finally, he'd decided that this conundrum demanded more wisdom than he possessed. And when he thought about wisdom and strategy, one person inevitably came to mind—his former mentor, Benjamin Hornigold. If anyone could help him find a way out of the quagmire he'd gotten himself into, it was Hornigold.

So now here he was, walking up the steps to Hornigold's elegant mansion, knocking on the door and waiting to be admitted. A smartly dressed butler opened the door and raised an eyebrow in question.

"Captain Edward Teach to see Captain Hornigold, if you please," Blackbeard said formally.

The butler bowed silently, ushered Blackbeard inside, and walked stiffly off, presumably to find his employer. Less than a minute later, Hornigold rushed forward with hand extended.

"Edward, my boy! Pleasure to see you!"

Blackbeard shook his mentor's hand vigorously.

"It's good to see you, Hornigold!"

"Even given my new avocation?" Hornigold asked with a grin.

Blackbeard shook his head. "A privateer! I'd never have believed the daring pirate Benjamin Hornigold could become a privateer!"

Hornigold chuckled. "It's naught but another form of piracy my boy. It's just that now, I'm hunting pirates, rather than treasure."

Hornigold led Blackbeard into a formal sitting room and requested a mob-capped maid bring them refreshments.

"So, Edward," Hornigold said once his duties of hospitality were completed, "what brings you to my home. I sense this is more than a social call."

"Indeed," Blackbeard said heavily. "The fact is, I've got trouble, and I've no idea how to extricate myself from it."

Then the dam burst. Blackbeard told his mentor everything—Anne's death, his vow of vengeance against Hook, the debacle with the _Queen Anne's Revenge_, the Evil Queen selling him to Ursula, the two failed revenge attempts, his unease with the current situation.

Hornigold listened silently, occasionally nodding or furrowing his brow. When the whole tale had been told, the older man blew out a long breath. "Quite the predicament you've found yourself in, my lad."

"Indeed," Blackbeard agreed.

"And am I to understand that the little lad you've left in my keeping is part of your revenge plot?"

"Aye," Blackbeard answered. "He is the child of the man the queen loves. My sources tell me she loves him as much as would his own mother. I wished to have leverage with which to blackmail her."

"It's rather clever from a strategic point of view," Hornigold said carefully.

"But…" Blackbeard said, hearing a caveat in his mentor's tone.

Hornigold gave him a speculative look for a second and then beckoned for him to follow after him. Curious, Blackbeard did as he was bid. Hornigold opened a door at the end of a long hallway. Blackbeard peered inside what looked like a whimsical nursery. Toys of every shape and size filled the room. A grandmotherly old woman sat knitting in the corner, a puppy slept curled up on a rug before a roaring fire. It was a little boy's paradise.

But the little boy in question sat at a window seat, peering bleakly out upon the gardens below. At intervals his tiny shoulders shook suspiciously. A tray full of toothsome delicacies sat untouched beside him.

"What is wrong with him?" Blackbeard asked quietly as Hornigold silently closed the door and began walking back toward the sitting room. "Is the lad ill?"

"Not in body," Hornigold answered. "He is homesick, poor lad. He misses his father, and he misses someone named Regina. He's polite, eager to please, but utterly miserable. Nothing I've done can draw him out of his melancholy."

Guilt continued to course through Blackbeard. He'd done this. He'd caused a little boy torment in his quest to punish someone else. It seemed everything he did had dreadful consequences.

"What am I to do, Benjamin?" Blackbeard asked with a deep sigh once both men were once again seated in the parlor.

"It seems, my boy, you are right to avoid a true alliance with the sea witch," he said carefully. "But your other actions seem questionable at best."

"Aye," Blackbeard freely acknowledged. "But how am I to extricate myself from this web, I've woven."

"It would seem to me," Blackbeard said carefully, "that your best option is to align yourself with those who are powerful, those who also oppose the witch."

"Those in the Enchanted Forest palace?" Blackbeard asked incredulously. "Make an alliance with my deepest enemies, those I've sworn vengeance upon?"

Hornigold gave him a pitying look. "'Tis a hard thing even to contemplate, lad. This I know very well. 'Twas grievously that Hook and the queen wronged you, and your rage are understandable."

"But…"

"But you must make a choice," Hornigold said gently. "Will you continue to pursue vengeance until it destroys every last ounce of goodness within you, or will you rise above your pain for the sake of defeating a far greater enemy?"

Blackbeard was silent for long moments, his eyes staring sightlessly out the window. Finally he turned back to Hornigold. "I don't know," he said finally. "And even if I should chose to take a different path how could I hope my enemies would ever aid me after the ways in which I've wounded them?"

"Consider taking yon lad back to his family," Hornigold said. "Returning young Roland to his father's arms will go a long way toward restoring good will."

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

Emma stepped slowly into the magnificent enclosed garden, and began making her way painfully forward. It had been a week since…_it_…had happened, and her health was steadily improving. Emma knew that if she was to regain her full strength, she needed to get up, even for small stretches, and get some exercise.

It was frustrating, she was a slow and feeble as an old woman.

She felt like an old woman in more ways than the physical. There was something about grief, pain, and guilt that aged a person far beyond her years. Her mother had insisted that the pain would fade, that she would heal both physically and emotionally. Snow meant well, Emma knew that, but she had no idea what she was talking about. Snow was not responsible for her baby's death; Snow had not lost her husband's love.

Because Emma knew full well that is exactly what had happened. Killian blamed her, and he had stopped loving her. It was in the little things. He hadn't touched her since that first morning when he told her the news. He barely spoke a word to her. He came to bed long after she'd fallen asleep, and was gone by the time she woke in the morning. He was too honorable to leave her outright—particularly given her fragile state of health—but he'd withdrawn from her all the same.

She sighed, and let the tears fall as she wended her way slowly through the rows and rows of beautiful flowers. After a moment, Emma felt a broad hand on her back, and for an instant her heart leapt, hoping Killian had come to join her. She turned and found herself confronted with the knowing, sympathetic eyes of her father.

"Emma, are you alright?" he asked in concern. She shook her head and then stepped into his waiting arms.

"Sh," he said gently, holding her, stroking her hair. "It's going to be alright."

But it wasn't. She knew that full well.

Eventually she pulled away. "Sorry, Dad," she said. "I guess I'm still kind of a mess."

Charming took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm, then turning forward he started them walking slowly along. "I know, honey," he said gently. "The loss you've suffered is…well, I have no words for it. You're allowed to fall apart, under the weight of it."

She leaned her head against his broad shoulder. "I know this sounds stupid, but I feel like nothing will be alright…let alone happy…ever again."

"I know," he said simply.

She'd told no on, _no one_ of the full extent of her pain, but suddenly she _had_ to unburden herself.

"Dad," she said hesitantly. "You don't know the half of it."

Charming stopped and led Emma to a bench in the shade. "Then tell me honey. Let me help you."

"It's my fault," she said on a sob. "My fault my baby's dead."

"No," Charming said firmly, shaking his head decidedly. "It's not…"

"Please, Dad, let me finish. I need to get this out."

"Okay."

"Killian asked me to promise I wouldn't take any chances, not with the baby on the way," she said sadly. "I…told him I'd be careful, but at the first test, what did I do? I went after him and an undead-pirate on my own. I didn't even so much as tell anyone where I was going!"

"You were in a panic, honey," Charming said gently. "You were terrified for your husband. Under those circumstances, anyone could lose her head."

Emma shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she said bleakly. "Killian will never forgive me. He blames me, and he's right to."

"He said that?" Charming asked sharply.

"He didn't have to," Emma answered, looking down at her lap. "He's turned from me. There's a distance between us. Dad, he was so excited about this baby. It had only been a month, but he already loved the little guy like you wouldn't believe. I killed his baby; how can he get over that?"

Charming gently turned her face so that she was looking at him. "Emma, that man loves you so much that even I, the most overprotective father in the world, decided he was worthy of you. That man loves longer, harder and more faithfully than anyone I've ever seen. Whatever you think is going on between the two of you, it's _not_ that he's stopped loving you."

"I wish I could believe you."

"You should," he said with a smile. "I'm your father, and so I'm obviously endowed with super-human wisdom."

Emma smiled, and gently smacked his arm.

"In all seriousness, Emma," Charming said, sobering. "Talk to him; talk to your husband. You need to clear the air. Communication is vital to a strong marriage."

"What if I'm right and he rejects me?" Emma asked in a small voice.

Charming reached over and wrapped her in a side-armed hug. "You're not, but even if you were, your mother and I will always be here for you. We'll get through this, whatever happens, _together_."

….

Killian sat in the comfortable chair by the desk in their bedroom. A book on nautical techniques in the 20th century lay open on his lap—it really was nearly magical how Belle managed to get her hands on _any_ book one could want!—but he couldn't focus on it's fascinating pages. Emma sat propped up on the bed, slowly brushing her hair, staring into space with such sadness it broke his heart.

With everything in him he wished he could comfort her, take this pain away, but he knew better. He knew he was the last person she would wish to be with. Over the past week, the weight of his guilt had nearly crushed him. Was this a punishment for all the terrible things he'd done in his past? Had he been weighed and found unworthy of a happy ending?

"You blame me don't you?" Her voice was so small he almost missed her broken question.

"Pardon, lass?" he asked in surprise.

"You blame me. For the baby, I mean."

Killian shut his book with a click, threw it onto the desk and rushed to his wife. "Emma, love! How could you even think that?"

She turned her head away. "How could I not? It's my fault. If I hadn't rushed off after you like an idiot…not even bringing along my dad as back-up…this would have never happened."

Killian gently turned her face toward him with one finger under her chin. "No, Emma. It is _not _your fault. And no, I do not blame you. I blame myself."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Yourself? Why?"

"I failed you, love," he said in a choked voice. "You and that little one. I should have found a way to protect you."

"Kind of hard to do," she said with a self-deprecating chuckle, "when I refuse to stay away from danger."

Her chuckle ended on a sob, and he surged forward, gathering her into his arms. She clung to him so tightly he would likely have bruises. "Shh, love, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She cried for another minute or two, and then pulled back. He wiped her wet cheeks with his thumb. "You really don't blame me, Killian?" she asked. The hope and doubt he heard in her voice broke his heart.

"Nay, my love, my most precious love," he said. "You did not do this."

"Neither did you!" Emma said fiercely. "I saw the note; I know what happened. You did everything you could to protect me and the baby."

He clasped her hand, and brought it to his lips. "Very well, then. Shall we agree that neither of us is at fault for this tragedy?"

"Yes," she said on a sigh. She yawned loudly, and he chuckled.

"Tired?" His voice was amused.

"All this high emotion is exhausting," she said with a grin.

"You'd best get some sleep, lass," he said, gently pulling back the covers and letting her climb inside. "You've still some healing to do."

He prepared to get up, give her space to sleep, but her hand on his arm stopped him.

"Stay with me?" she asked in a small voice. "I need you Killian. I missed you holding me through the night."

His heart swelled, and the tears came to his eyes. He nodded silently, not trusting his voice. He made short work of preparing for bed, and then climbed in. Emma immediately turned toward him, took his face between her palms and kissed him long and deeply. After long moments, he groaned and pulled away.

"Perhaps we'd best stop our journey down that road, lass," he said breathlessly. "You've still a good bit of healing to do before we can express our love in more…intimate…terms."

Emma sighed. "You're right," she said ruefully. She turned and settled more firmly in his arms. "I love you Killian. Please promise me we won't do this again? Promise me from now on we'll face whatever we have to deal with together?"

Killian placed a gentle kiss onto the top of her head, reveling in the sweet smell of her hair, the soft press of her body against his. "I promise, Emma" he said. "And I love you too. More than you'll ever know."

_Notes:_

_-***sigh of relief*** CS is back! I'm so glad the angst is done for now (probably for the rest of the story as far as the two main couples are concerned), and I got to write Killian and Emma's reunion! God bless Charming and his wisdom! Originally, I was going to have Emma have this conversation with Snow, but I decided there has been entirely too little Daddy Charming (really, entirely too little Charming, period) in this story._

_-So are you feeling the parallels between Blackbeard/Edward and Hook/Killian as strongly as I am? Blackbeard has been way too sympathetic a character from the beginning for him to not feel guilty about what happened to Emma—and also troubled by Ursula's power trip. The question is…can he give up his revenge? Will he be willing to give up his hatred for the greater good? Will he take Hornigold's advice and return Roland and make an alliance with the Storybrooke gang?_

_-On a historical note, Hornigold really did become a privateer (basically a pirate-hunter) after he accepted the pardon from the king._

_-Up next: In the waters under the Enchanted Forest, shortly before the first curse, Ursula now has her pirate crew and pirate captain, she has them go on an ultimately unsuccessful mission in Triton's kingdom. In the present…I'm not really sure how to tell you without giving too much away. (Sorry for the crypticness!)_


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

_Enchanted Forest, several months before the first curse_

Ursula looked dispassionately down at the pirate captain who was _still_ passed out on the sea bed next to her garden. Good grief! Was this guy _ever_ going to wake up? She'd harvested his soul a good half day ago. None of her other pirates had taken so long to snap out of it.

He groaned and began to stir. Now that was more like it. Ursula waited and watched as the man pushed himself up from the ground and shook his head. It was obvious just when the pirate realized he was submerged in water. He waved his hands frantically, and his blue eyes widened. He gasped, and then his eyes narrowed in confusion.

She was ready for it. The other pirates had gone on and on and on about the whole under water thing. You'd think men who spent their lives out on the water would be a little less freaked out by it, but, then again, no one'd ever claimed that humans were logical!

The pirate captain turned in place and eventually spotted Ursula sitting regally on the lawn chair she used when she wanted to hang out at her garden and gloat over the souls.

"Who…who are you?" he asked.

"Ursula, the sea witch, at your service," she said, spreading her arms wide and sketching a mock bow.

"The sea witch? Am I dead then? Have I landed in hell?"

Ursula narrowed her eyes. Hell? He thought she was from _hell?_ Well that was just plain insulting.

"No, you little grub worm!" she growled. "You're not in hell. You're at the bottom of the sea."

The man shook his head. "No. Sailors do not live under the sea. I'm either hallucinating, or I've passed on. This certainly isn't heaven, so I must conclude if I have passed on, I've been sent to hell."

Ursula rolled her eyes. "You complaining about my hospitality, _already_."

The man glared at her, clearly utterly unintimidated. "What hospitality, pray tell? You've offered me nothing, nor have you laid me upon a bed. I wake to find myself sprawled on the ocean floor next to a garden full of the ugliest plants I've ever seen."

"Careful what you say, bucko," Ursula said, "those 'ugly plants' happens to be none other than the souls of my slaves, and see that one back in the corner? The one that's shriveled and blackened? Yeah, that one's yours."

The pirate gasped and put his hands to his head in obvious shock. "My soul? You took my _soul_?"

Why was it these humans _always_ thought their souls resided in their heads? "Yep," she said smugly. "Took it first thing this morning. You've been out cold since. Must have a pretty poor constitution."

"But that's impossible!" the man thundered, "when the soul leaves the body, a man is dead!"

"Turns out that's not so true when the man has warped his soul so much with dastardly deeds that it's a blackened as a loaf of bread left in a hot oven for three weeks."

"I don't believe it," he said brashly. "This isn't happening! That Evil Queen put a spell on me; that must be it. I'm out of my mind!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Ursula said with a roll of her eyes. "Get it all out, pirate boy. 'I'll make ye walk the plank' and 'Shiver me timbers', 'and ahoy matey', and 'I'll devour yer parrot ye barnacle bottomed blowfish', and 'I'll cut out yer tongue and feed it to the sharks ye one-eyed bow-legged scabby sea bass.' I've heard it all before. Your new crew had quite the impressive vocabulary when it came to insults."

"My new _crew_? What in all the realms are you talking about you sharp tongued harpy?"

"Sharp tongued harpy?" she said with a shake of her head. "Captain, it's positively insulting how lame your insults are. You need to work on that. You really do."

"Listen here!" he thundered, "I grow tired of this game! I demand you release me from whatever infernal spell you are holding me under!"

She slithered from her perch and got in his face. "You're in no position to demand anything, you big fat bilge rat! I'm getting tired of your sass; don't have all day, you know."

"How the hell would I know how much time you have to terrorize poor unsuspecting sailors?"

What _was _it with pirates? Absolutely no respect for authority. No fear of those stronger than them. Sassing back like nobody's business. They were going to drive her up the wall!

She sighed. Perhaps it was time she tried a different tack.

"Look," she said calmly. "I think we got off on the wrong tentacle here. You're stuck here with me for all eternity, but there's no need to make this unpleasant. Let's start over, shall we? My name is Ursula; what's yours?"

She extended one hand. He eyed it skeptically for a moment, and then finally sighed and shook. "Blackbeard," he said in a defeated voice. "My name is Blackbeard."

"What kind of a fool name is that?" she asked, forgetting she was trying the 'let's be friends' strategy.

"Fool name or not," he said frostily, "it's served me well. It is a name that inspires fear and dread on sailors the world over."

"I apologize," Ursula said with a nod. "That was rude."

"Apology accepted," Blackbeard said stiffly. "Now, suppose you tell me just why you've kidnapped me and are holding me as your slave."

"Captain, Captain," Ursula tsked with a sad shake of her head. "Such strong words. I didn't _kidnap_ you; you were sold to me. The Evil Queen gave you to me in exchange for information about Snow White."

"She did _what_?" Blackbeard thundered.

"Sold you to me," Ursula said. "Ain't that a kick in the head."

The pirate got up and began to pace. "I don't _believe_ this!" he shouted. "She'll rue this day! Mark my words, she'll rue it! I will get my revenge. I'll vent my wrath on both of them, her and that lecherous pirate!"

Ursula gave him a sharp look. "Might be hard to do from the ocean floor, don't you think?"

He stepped up to her, spat an obscenity, and gave her a look so angry, it likely had most grown men quaking in their boots. But Ursula didn't wear boots…nor did she get intimidated by her slaves.

"Look, buddy," she said with a hard stare. "I don't know who you were on land. I don't know what kind of power trip you were on, but it's time to get off of it. Like it or not, you're _mine _for eternity. You've got two choices. Either you oppose me, and I make your life a living hell from now until the sea horses come home, or you help me and you live a life of comfort and luxury. Your choice."

His glare intensified, and he flashed her a distinctly impolite hand gesture. She was going to wring Albert's sorry neck! Why the _hell_ had she ever listened to him. 'I know Ursula! Get yourself some pirates. They'll steal the trident for you. Oh the pirates are unruly? I know, get yourself a pirate captain. He'll keep them in line.' Ha! Fat chance.

Ursula put her hands to her temples and gently rubbed. She was getting a headache. She'd try one more tactic, and then that was it. She'd had it! She'd lock this pirate's sorry ass in a prison so far under the ocean floor, he'd have to swim up a mile just to _reach_ hell!

"Didn't anyone ever teach you manners?" she asked.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you if you had a little self-control around food you wouldn't balloon up to the point you might be mistaken for a whale?"

_Patience! Patience! She needed him._

"My body weight is not your concern," Ursula said very softly and very deliberately. "What is your concern, however, is helping me out. You see, if you scratch my back, I just might scratch yours."

"I hope to heaven you mean that merely as a metaphor."

She ignored that.

"You see, now that I have your soul, you'll have certain advantages on land."

That pricked his interest; that was clear enough.

"What kind of advantages."

"You will be impervious to attack," Ursula said. "No land dweller will be able to wield a weapon that can touch you. They try? It'll just slide right through you, not even causing a nick."

"What use is that to me if you're imprisoning me on the ocean floor?"

"Like I said, you help me, I'll help you," Ursula said. "You talked about vengeance and enemies and all that kind of messy stuff. You do your job for me, I let you at 'em. They'll be like fish in a barrel; ripe for the shooting."

A feral grin spread across Blackbeard's face. "Well, madam sea witch," he said with a bow. "It looks like you just found yourself a willing and eager employee. Now what might my first assignment be?"

"Now we're talking!" she said gleefully. "Triton has something I need. A trident. You're first assignment is to go corral those clown-fish who call themselves pirates, plan a mission, and steal me a trident."

"Consider it done."

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

It was going to be a beautiful day. The sun was shining brilliantly, the birds were singing their little aviary hearts out, a pleasantly cool breeze wafted its way through the open bedroom window, and the most beautiful, amazing woman in the world slept within the circle of his arms.

Killian lifted his hand and gently brushed Emma's hair from her face. Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead, love and relief pouring through him. Thank God the rift between them had closed. If he'd lost her, either to her injuries or to guilt over what happened to the baby, the wound would be unendurable,

Emma's eyes fluttered open, green meeting blue. She slowly smiled, leaned forward and softly kissed him. "I love you," she breathed against his lips.

It was like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night. He smiled tenderly and stroked her face. "I love you too, lass."

She leaned over and laid her head against his bare chest and he tightened his arms around her. "I missed this, Killian," she said on a sigh. "I missed _you_."

"And I you, Emma, but I vow to you, you'll never have need to miss me again."

"I'll hold you to that."

For long minutes they merely lay there, holding each other, Killian carding his fingers through her soft hair. He could happily remain like this all day. The lass seemed no more inclined to move.

"How are you this fair morning, my love?" he asked.

He felt her smile against his chest.

"You know, Killian, so much of the things you say really should sound cheesy, but you pull it off."

"Consider it a singular talent of mine," he said. "Now, have you an answer for my cheesy question?"

"I feel better this morning," she said slowly. "I don't hurt nearly as much as I did. Every day it's getting better."

"Good," he said. "And you're happy?"

She was quiet for some time. "That's kind of a hard one to answer, actually," she said. "I'm still sad beyond words about the baby, but, yeah, I think that's better too. I have this…I don't know…renewed optimism that things will get better. I think I have a certain sexy one-handed pirate to thank for that."

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her. "We'll help each other to heal, lass."

"Yeah," she said softly, and then after a moment. "I suppose we really should get up."

"We've got some time yet," he said. "The sun's barely risen. It will be a bit before anyone thinks to miss us."

"Good," Emma said, burrowing even closer into him.

"Aye, good indeed."

"So," she said, "what all's been happening in the last week while I've been basically out of commission?"

"Nothing has proceeded in our search for Blackbeard or Ursula," Killian said. "It is generally the consensus that we must wait for them to contact us or for Ariel to return and agree to be our liaison to the underwater world."

"I think that's about the hardest part," Emma said, "the waiting, the knowing that there's nothing we can do."

"Aye," he agreed, nodding his head.

"So aside from the fight against the big bads, what else has been going down around the castle?"

He chuckled softly to himself. "Well, the most note-worthy item would have to be the fact that Robin and Regina have been exhibiting so much PDA, as Henry would call it, that even your parents have started to become disgusted."

"Really?" Emma asked in surprise. "How'd that happen? Last I knew he still pretty much hated her about the whole Marian thing."

"It seems," Killian said, "angry though he was, it came to the point where the outlaw simply could ignore his feelings no longer. He held a conversation with Regina which resulted in a real, genuine true love's kiss. Robin's memories have now been completely restored."

"Good for them!" Emma said. "I guess it's true what they say, you know, that true love conquers all."

Killian chuckled and held her closer.

Emma sat up and shot him a look of mock outrage. "And just what is so funny?"

"You," he said, pulling her gently back to his chest. "I was just remembering the hard, closed up lass who tied me to a tree and almost fed me to the ogres. Can that lass have really just gushed about true love conquering all?"

Emma planted a soft kiss just above his heart. "She can," she said. "Maybe that 'lass' just needed to meet the love of her life who could bring out the best in her."

"I'll remember that, darling and remind you of it the next time you start yelling at me."

She laughed. It was a light, joyous sound that warmed his heart.

"I'm more pleased than I can speak, love, to hear you laugh again."

"Me too," she said.

There was a pleasant silence for another long moment, then Emma spoke up again. "So Regina's happy?"

"Aye," Killian said carefully. "Where Robin is concerned, it appears she is incandescently so."

"But…"

Killian shrugged. "It's clear she and Robin worry about his lad."

"Killian," she said intently, "we have to get him back. Somehow we have to find him. We can't leave him with that monster anymore."

"I know love," he said. "And we will. We will get him back."

Emma sat up. "When we finally corner him, I'm coming with you."

"Emma…"

"No, Killian," she said, and he saw the anguish, the pleading in her face. "Please don't ask me to sit at home like some stupid damsel in distress. I know you want to protect me, and I appreciate that you love me that much. I do, but I'm a fighter; I've been a fighter all my life, and I'll be damned before I sit back and let others do the fighting for me." She shrugged. "Maybe it's part of the whole 'savior' thing."

Killian looked at her for long moments, and finally nodded. He was intelligent enough to know he couldn't stop her if he wanted to. "Very well," he said, "I won't ask it of you."

He cupped her face in his hand. "But just remember this, love. If you take unnecessary risks and are injured or killed, I will feel as though the very heart has been taken from my chest."

Emma smiled, leaned forward and kissed him again, slow and deeply. "Same goes for you, pirate.

….

By the time Hornigold served the mid-day meal, Blackbeard had made his choice. For the greater good, he would take Hornigold's advice. For the greater good, he would cast his lot with those inhabiting the castle. For the greater good, he would put aside his hate and vengeance.

Just after the mid-day meal, Blackbeard went to the nursery to speak to Roland. As soon as he'd entered the whimsical room, the boy gasped and hid behind his nurse's skirts. "Roland, lad," he'd said gently, hunching down so that he was on eye level with the little one. The child took one step to the left until his curly head looked out.

"Y…yes, sir?" Roland asked, a small quiver in his voice.

"You have no reason to fear me lad," Blackbeard said gently. "You remind me of my little sister. She had curly dark hair just like you, and she was often frightened of strangers."

"I'm not scared of strangers," Roland said in an accusatory voice. "I'm just scared of you 'cause you hurt Papa."

Blackbeard dropped his head and sighed. "I know lad, and I'm sorry. I've done some terrible things; things that hurt good people like your Papa."

"Is…is Papa alright?" Roland asked in a small voice.

"Yes," Blackbeard said earnestly. "I've seen him not a week hence. Regina came and healed him."

"'Gina?" he asked excitedly.

"Aye," Blackbeard said with a smile. "Regina."

Roland's face fell, and tears filled his eyes. "I want my Papa. I want my 'Gina. I want to go home."

"Lad," Blackbeard said, "if you would like, I will take you home this very day."

Roland's eyes lit up, and then the wariness entered them. "I…I have to go with you?"

Blackbeard sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

"I'm afraid so, my boy," he said gently. "I know you fear me. I'm sorry for the harm I did to you, to your father. I swear on my honor as a pirate that you are safe from you. Your father and all you love are safe from me. I want to learn how to be a good man."

Roland peered at him intently for several moments, and finally nodded. "My Papa is a good man."

"Aye lad," Blackbeard agreed. "That he is."

"Maybe he can teach you how to be a good man, too."

"Maybe so," Blackbeard said with a small smile. "Maybe he can at that.

….

Regina sat with Robin on a blanket the two had spread beneath a large shade tree in the inner bailey. He reclined with his back against the tree, and she sat beside him in the circle of his arms.

Robin sighed loudly, and Regina moved so that she could see his face. He was clearly troubled.

"What's the matter, Robin?"

He shrugged, leaned down and kissed her. "I'm sorely concerned about my little lad. What has happened to my Roland?"

Regina returned the kiss. It was a soft, gentle kiss, a giving and receiving of strength. "I don't know. The question has haunted me since I came back here almost two months ago."

"Shouldn't the blackguard have sent another ransom demand?" Robin demanded. "I would gladly find a way to pay any sum he might desire."

Regina sighed. "You know it isn't money he's after. He's after my head. Mine and Hook's, it would seem. I'd gladly give myself up to him if it would ensure Roland was returned safely to you."

Robin shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "I can't bear to lose you; either of you. My men and I are nothing if not resourceful. Come what may, we will find a way out of this tangle."

She looked up at him, stroked his stubbled cheek. "I believe you will."

"Never bet against a merry man, my lady, particularly one in love."

"Do you have any idea how good it is to hear you say that…that you're in love with me?"

She asked wistfully.

"Aye," Robin said with a smile, "likely it is nearly as wonderful as it is to hear you declare your love for me."

Their kiss was longer this time. Longer and far more passionate. Robin reached up, began pulling the pins from Regina's hair, and laid her back against the blanket. Her heart hammered against her chest as she pulled him down to her and deepened the kiss. She'd waited so long to be with him! Finally she was here, her Robin was back, and they were so very much in love. Nothing could make this moment more perfect. Nothing but….

A shout rang out from the watch tower. Was that Little John?

"He's here!" the man shouted frantically. "He's coming!"

"What now?" Regina asked as Robin got to his feet and helped her up. Regina hastily straightened her considerably mussed hair, and then followed her true love to the gates where the rest of the Storybrooke group had already congregated.

"What is it?" Regina asked, running forward. Hook, Emma and Charming had their swords out and pointing toward the gate. Rumple held his hands out, clearly ready to cast a spell.

"Blackbeard," Hook said in a hard voice.

"What?" Regina asked. "You mean he's sent another note?"

"No," Emma said in a voice nearly shaking with anger. "This time the bastard decided to drag his sorry, cowardly ass to the castle himself."

"Anyone with him?" Robin asked urgently.

"Impossible to say," Charming answered, "but given his record, I wouldn't count on it."

Robin took his place beside Charming and drew his bow. Regina readied her fireballs. The pirate had gone too far this time. He'd pissed off everyone in this castle in some way or another, and he was about to find out that they were a force to be reckoned with!

When he was about 100 yards from the castle gates, Blackbeard dismounted from his jet black horse. He drew his sword…and then deliberately threw it to the ground. He did the same with his pistol and with the knife he kept in his boot. He slowly walked forward, his arms before him in a gesture of surrender.

_What the hell kind of twisted game was he playing now_?

When the pirate was mere feet from the assembled group he stopped, and spoke for the first time. "I've come in peace," he said wearily. "I merely wish to parlay."

Emma growled. "You killed my baby, you son of a bitch! Give me one reason I shouldn't rip you apart piece by piece."

"Perhaps it would be better, Mrs. Jones," Rumple said, "if I were to ask him to give me one reason why the Dark One shouldn't curse him into oblivion?"

"For once I agree with the Crocodile," Hook said, "but I would go one step farther. Blackbeard, give me one reason why all of us gathered here shouldn't totally, utterly and completely obliterate you where you stand?"

"Very well," Blackbeard said, voice still weary. "You should refrain from attacking me for two very important reasons. Firstly, I believe we can be useful to each other. We have a common enemy who must be defeated. Secondly…"

The pirate motioned behind him. "Secondly, I've brought you a present…a present I know will be very dear to you. It would be a tragedy should he be harmed."

Blackbeard stepped to the side to reveal a child. _Was that…_

"Roland!" Robin shouted. And then the little boy was running. Before she knew what was happening, Regina was running too. The tears streamed down her face as the little family was finally reunited, arms wrapped around each other, holding each other as if they'd never let go.

_Notes:_

_-Yay! Blackbeard decided to do the right thing. And yay! The Hood/Mills family is reunited. Now the question is will the Storybrooke gang be willing to actually listen to and team up with Blackbeard? Can Killian and Emma get past their very recent pain and loss enough to even have a civil conversation with him without trying to do him bodily harm?_

_-For the back in time section, I googled "pirate insults" to come up with some material for Ursula. It was quite entertaining._

_-Up next: About 2 months ago in the Enchanted Forest, Blackbeard escapes Ursula for the first time. He has a chance meeting with Robin Hood (who has no idea who he is), and learns some interesting information about how to get to and defeat Regina. In the present, the Storybrooke/Enchanted Forest people have to decide whether or not to trust Blackbeard._


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

_Waters under the Enchanted Forest just over 2 months ago_

Blackbeard eyed his "crew" and then wearily shook his head. This was the sorriest group of misfits he'd seen in his life. Ursula was crazy if she thought he could coral this bunch into _anything_ even slightly resembling a useful pirate crew.

After eight months of training he'd gotten nowhere!

Well, technically it was thirty years since the psycho octopus had captured him, but the last twenty-eight years hardly counted. Best Blackbeard could tell, King Triton got wind of the Evil Queen's approaching curse and took precautions. Apparently the trident Ursula was after had sufficient magical properties to create a shield that covered the entirety of the ocean. The shield protected sea-dwellers from the curse, but effectively "froze" them in time for the duration of the Evil Queen's enchantment.

"Captain?" came from an eager young man that Blackbeard had nicknamed "Pup."

"Aye, lad?"

"Now what? Do get to go after the mermaids? Do we? Can we take their treasure?"

Blackbeard sighed. "We have a specific objective in mind. We must retrieve the trident for Ursula. We cannot afford to be sidetracked with other objectives."

"But couldn't we just kind of, you know, ransack a few houses while we're at it? Wouldn't take a moment!"

"Pup," Blackbeard said in an ominous voice, "who devises the plans?"

"The captain."

"And who is the captain?"

"Well, you are, sir."

"Indeed," Blackbeard said drily, "so kindly allow me to do the thinking."

"But…just a teensy tiny bit of pillaging?"

_God give me patience!_ "Pup, if we start pillaging villages, Triton is going to get wind of our presence in his kingdom, and that fiasco when we were first captured is going to look like a walk in the park."

"Yeah," the young man's face fell, "Guess you're right"

It had been a disaster. Blackbeard had led his men on a covert mission to Triton's kingdom. It had been intended to be nothing more than a surveillance mission, but his bloody crew had other ideas. The term "covert" was apparently not in their lexicon.

The fools had run in, guns blazing, swearing a blue streak, brazenly shouting their intentions to everyone within a ten mile radius. The result had been a nasty fight with an entire army of mermen, culminating in Triton himself showing up and chasing him from the kingdom with his trident.

It was humiliating! Humiliating and embarrassing. That evening in the crew's quarters Blackbeard had a very stern, very loud, and very profane conversation with his men about what is and what is not the appropriate behavior of a pirate crew on a secret mission. Whether or not he'd come even close to penetrating their thick skulls was anyone's guess.

Personally, Blackbeard couldn't have cared less whether or not Ursula got her precious trident. That was utterly immaterial to him. What _was_ material to him was his revenge. Until he and his men succeeded in capturing the trident, the damn sea bitch refused to grant him leave to go to shore and pursue his revenge.

And Blackbeard had soon determined that there was no way of swaying the large sea creature's empty, yet tightly closed mind.

A fight erupted at the far end of the crew's barracks. Blackbeard rolled his eyes. No doubt he should put an end to it, throw the two hotheads in the brig, and call it a day, but he just didn't have the energy. Let them beat each other to a bloody pulp if they liked. Blackbeard turned his back and walked out of the room, down the hall, and into his own stateroom.

He lay upon his bunk, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. What was the point of it all? Ursula owned him; would own him for eternity. There was no escape from this prison.

An uneven tread in the hall told Blackbeard that Roberts was heading his way. Roberts was possibly the best pirate on his crew. Unfortunately, he was as old as the hills, and his peg leg severely limited his usefulness.

The old, grizzled man knocked perfunctorily and then made his way toward Blackbeard's bunk. He leaned down conspiratorially, and then spoke. "Have I got a tale for you, lad!"

Blackbeard ignored the offensive odor of the man's breath, and considered him dispassionately. Roberts's tales were, more often than not, taller than the giants, but at least he was good for a diversion.

"And what might that be, Roberts?" Blackbeard asked, getting to a seated position and swinging his legs around.

"I hear things, Captain," Roberts said in the low tone. "Interesting things. Things people only say around me because they believe I'm senile."

"And just what interesting things have they been saying this time," Blackbeard said, humoring the man.

"Well, Captain," Roberts answered, clearly relishing having an audience, "it seems one of Ursula's mermaid captives escaped."

"Escaped?" Blackbeard asked, sitting up straighter. Perhaps he'd misjudged the old man; this could be useful after all.

"Aye," Roberts said with a snap of his fingers, "just like that. Fiona, I think her name was. Just went and uprooted herself from the garden and went her merry way."

"How did she manage such a feat?"

Roberts leaned in and lowered his voice even farther. "They say Ursula's growing weaker. Needs a fresh infusion of souls. In her weakened state, it just might be possible to escape from her."

Well, that was interesting. Right then and there, Blackbeard made the decision. He would escape—even if it were only for a time, he would escape long enough to gather information on his enemies and begin formulating a plan.

….

Blackbeard sat wreathed in the shadows of the smoky tavern, watching and listening. When one wanted information but didn't wish to appear to be seeking it, this was the perfect place to do so. He took a sip of his ale taking in the conversations around him.

He'd done it; he'd escaped Ursula…well, in a manner of speaking. The witch still held his soul planted in her sadistic garden, but his body had managed to break free of her enchantments. Blackbeard sensed his freedom was only temporary. Soon enough, Ursula would get a fresh infusion of souls, and he would no doubt be dragged back to her lair.

He planned to make every moment count until that time arrived.

A man stumbled into the tavern, looking somewhere between distressed and utterly devastated. He took a seat at the table next to Blackbeard, lifted a hand to catch a barmaid's attention, and then ran a hand through his wheat colored hair. Some instinct urged Blackbeard in the man's direction.

"You look like a man who could use a drink," Blackbeard said, taking the seat across from the man

"Aye," he said tiredly. "It's been a sorely trying day, and I could use a little fortification before I return to my lad."

Blackbeard nodded his head and then extended his hand. "Edward," he said simply.

The man eyed him suspiciously for a moment, and then reached forward to clasp his hand. "Robin," he replied.

"Well, Robin," Blackbeard said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."  
"Likewise," Robin answered formally.

"I find," Blackbeard said, "that troubles tend to be far easier to bear when shared with others. Care to tell me what has the world on your shoulders this fine eve?"

Robin gave him a long speculative look, accepted his mug of ale from the barmaid, and then finally nodded. "Perhaps it would ease my mind."

"By all means," Blackbeard said, spreading his arms in invitation.

"The woman I love left the Enchanted Forest some six months past, and I've been trying desperately to find a way back to her ever since."

"Ah," Blackbeard said sagely. "There's nothing quite so painful as unrequited love."

Robin glared at him. "It's far from unrequited, my man. My Regina loved me as deeply as I did her."

_Regina? The proper name of the Evil Queen? Could it be? Could the key to his revenge have just dropped into his lap?_

"I meant no offence, of course," Blackbeard said with a repentent frown. "I just thought when you said she left the Enchanted Forest…"

Robin drank deeply, and Blackbeard heard a slight slur in his voice when he spoke again. Good grief! The man must _never_ drink if half a pint of ale was sufficient to slur his speech! "Wasn't by choice," he said. "She had to leave."

"There's quite a tale here; I can tell," Blackbeard said.

"Aye."

"I've all the time in the world, if you'd like to unburden yourself of your sad tale," Blackbeard said sympathetically.

"Many years past," Robin said, "my Regina cast a curse, a terrible curse that banished nearly all in the realm to a far distant land, a land without magic."

Euphoria bubbled up within Blackbeard's chest. The man _was_ speaking of the Evil Queen!

"The curse was broken in due time, but the former residents of the realm were not able to return until nearly two years later when Regina was forced to destroy the curse she had cast so long ago."

"So they're back," Blackbeard said, trying not to sound too eager. "Your Regina and the rest. They're here now?"

Robin shook his head. "Regina had a son she was forced to leave in the Land Without Magic. He, his birth mother and her pirate husband came to the Enchanted Forest many months ago. Together we defeated several formidable enemies, but there was a problem."

"And what was that?"

"My Regina's son was from the Land Without Magic," Robin said sadly, "so he was not permitted to remain within this realm. The only chance the lad had was for Regina to re-cast the curse."

"And send herself back to the Land Without Magic, a land where you could not follow?"

"Aye," Robin said, knocking back the rest of his pint and signaling for another. "My young lad, Roland, is utterly lost without the woman he's come to regard as a mother, and I…Well, every day that goes by without her is a torture."

"You have my sympathies, good sir," Blackbeard said.

"My thanks," Robin said in a defeated voice. "I've tried ceaselessly to get to her, but nothing I've tried has shown the least progress."

Blackbeard continued conversing with the disconsolate lover for several minutes, and then found a way to excuse himself. He felt a tug behind his navel, and he knew his time was short. Ursula was no doubt regaining her powers, and he would be yanked back to his underground prison in no time.

No matter. This venture had been successful beyond his imaginings. A plan was beginning to form. The Evil Queen, it seemed was in love. If Robin could be believed she loved both him and his lad. If he managed to kidnap the young lad, it would be mere child's play to lure the woman back to the Enchanted Forest and into his clutches.

How could that be accomplished? Blackbeard smiled as he walked from the tavern. Perhaps it was time to recruit his sorry "crew" to join him on a little land piracy mission. He'd no doubt he could coral more than a few men who would jump at the chance to escape the octopus's clutches and ply their trade back above the sea.

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

Emma shot the group an incredulous look and then abruptly got up and stalked from the room. Killian watched her go, trying desperately to tamp down the anguish that had been coursing through him ever since this impromptu "war council" had begun.

Killian sighed and got to his feet. "I'll talk to her," he said tiredly.

"Killian," Charming said, "I know how difficult this is for you, for both of you."

"Aye," Killian agreed.

"Just know," Charming continued, "the ultimate decision will rest with you and my daughter. If you find you cannot bear to go along with this course of action, we will abandon it."

Killian nodded gratefully to his father-in-law. "Thanks, mate. I'll discuss the situation with Emma and let you know our decision."

"Well, don't take your time, dearie," Rumple said. "We've got quite the formidable foe who needs defeating, and every moment we waste is a moment she gets stronger."

Killian let his anger boil over. He rushed to his nemesis's side and pointed toward the door. "Because of that _monster_ in the other room, my wife and I are mourning the death of our child, a child we both loved to distraction. Forgive us, Crocodile if we're reluctant to join forces with him."

The Crocodile opened his mouth, no doubt to utter something utterly heartless and infuriating, but Belle stopped him with a hand to his arm. "Let them be, Rumple," she said gently, placing her free hand on her flat stomach. "Give them the time they need."  
The man didn't answer, merely gestured Killian toward the door. Without another look in anyone's direction, Killian rushed from the room, up the stone staircase, down the hall and into his bedroom. There, as he'd expected, he found his lass pacing, looking as though she'd like nothing better than to hit something.

Killian stepped into the room, closed the door, and then took Emma into his arms. She resisted for a moment, her fisted hands stiff at her sides, but eventually, she melted into his embrace.

"How can they even suggest it, Killian?" she asked brokenly. "He killed our baby!"

He rubbed her back, closing his eyes in anguish. "I don't know, love."

"How can they think I could _work with_ that son of a bitch? I want nothing more than to plant my fist into his face until it's beaten to a bloody pulp!"

"I know," Killian said in a choked voice. "My sentiments are the same. In point of fact, I nearly did just that the night we brought you back and found out about…about the baby. I sat by your bedside, watched you lie there broken and still as death and I determined I would get my revenge."

"What stopped you?" she asked against his chest.

"Your father."

She laughed humorlessly. "Figures. How'd he manage to change your mind?"

Killian leaned back and looked into her eyes. "He persuaded me that revenge won't sate my soul, that you needed me by your side far more than you needed me held in Blackbeard's clutches…or worse."

"I did need you," Emma said. "I still do."

"And I need you, love," Killian said, pulling her back into his arms. "I need you to heal, and I speak from experience when I say revenge won't bring you healing; it will merely act as a poison that makes your wound continue to fester, never to heal. We must endeavor to forgive him."

"He doesn't deserve our forgiveness; he doesn't deserve any consideration after what he's done to us!"

"Nay," Killian said in a pained voice, "he doesn't, but I don't urge forgiveness for _his_ sake, but rather for _ours_. Constant pursuit of revenge does little but foster hatred in the one who pursues it. That hate slowly chokes out every vestige of love and goodness within you. It makes you do terrible things you would never have contemplated doing previously."

"Have you forgiven him?" Emma asked curiously.

"No," Killian said in a hard voice, "I have not, and I struggle with the need to destroy him, but I know what must be done. I must find a way to…exist with him without resorting to vengeance. Besides, there's something about him that…well, that reminds me of myself."

Emma pulled back but remained in the circle of his arms. "You? Killian, you can't be serious! I _know_ you. You would _never_ attack a woman and destroy her unborn baby."

He smiled ruefully. "Perhaps not, at least not intentionally," Killian said, "but it seems I did that very thing, however unintentionally to Blackbeard's very sister."

She gasped. "He told you what his vendetta was with you?"

"Aye," Killian said, turning away and studying the pattern on the bedspread. "Many years ago, just before Regina's curse, I met a young woman in a tavern."

And then the whole sordid tale came out. Through it all, Emma listened silently, inscrutable look in place. Finally she spoke.

"There's nothing you can do about your past, Killian," she said gently. "You were lost, consumed with your hatred then. You weren't the man I see before me now."

"But I destroyed Blackbeard's life."

"So that makes it okay for him to attack your wife and child?" Emma asked incredulously.

"Of course not!" Killian thundered. "It's not my intention to intimate that it is. I just…" he began pacing, looking for a way to explain what was in his mind. "I know what he's suffering and I know why he's pursuing the course he's pursuing. That was _me_ before I met you. Perhaps that knowledge helps me to see that I cannot pursue the deadly feud that threatens to break out between us. I must find a way past that. Not for him, but for me, for you, for our poor babe's memory."

She was silent for several moments, and then she met his eyes, anguish in her own. "So you've decided to go along with the rest of them? You've decided to take that…that _demon_ in as our ally?"

He rushed to her and took her hand in his own. "I've decided nothing, love. Your father assured me they would make no alliance unless we are in agreement. I, for my part, will urge nothing on my wife that will harm her further. If you feel you cannot bring yourself to work with him, we will tell your parents so and send the demon on his way."

"But you would rather we tell them it's okay?" Emma asked in a small voice.

Killian let out his breath in a long sigh. "It's not about what I want, love. It's about what's best for this realm…and all the others. Tell me something, Emma. You watched Blackbeard as he explained the situation with Ursula. Use your superpower. Was he lying to us."

Emma closed her eyes and thought for a moment. Then her face crumbled. "No. No, he wasn't."

"That was my belief as well."

"Why do we need him?" Emma asked in a small voice, taking a seat on the bed. "Between you and me and my dad and Rumple and the Camelot knights and Regina and Robin and the merry men and Philip, we've got plenty of magic, brute force and mental ability on our side. Who's to say we can't defeat her on our own."

Killian sat beside her. "I've a hunch this villain will be more formidable than any we've faced. Even the Crocodile himself wasn't sure of victory against this sea witch."

"You're right, Killian," she said finally in a voice that wavered, "but I just don't know if I can do this, if I can handle it."

"I'll be right at your side, lass, as always," Killian said soothingly. "We'll handle it the way we handle everything. Together."

….

"The witch expects me to provide her with a plan to steal the trident during Ariel and Erik's wedding," Blackbeard said from his seat at the far end of the great hall table. "Naturally, I have no intention of helping her in such a way."

Emma studied her hand, held firmly within her husband's. She studiously avoided looking at the undead pirate. She and Killian had returned to the great hall together twenty minutes ago and told the group that they agreed; Blackbeard should be taken on as an ally. She may have agreed to this plan because it was their best chance of defeating their enemy, but that didn't mean she had to be friendly or even cordial with the man. An agreement not to pursue vengeance was about all anyone could expect from her.

"No," Emma said finally in a hard voice. "No. You give Ursula a plan and you give her a good one."

"Emma…honey…" her mother began. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Yes I'm fine," _no thanks to Blackbeard!_

"Then, why are you suggesting we give our enemy a way to defeat us?"

"That's not what I'm suggesting!" Emma snapped. She saw the hurt flash across Snow's face, and she sighed. "Sorry; this situation's just got me totally stressed out."

"That's alright, honey," Snow said gently, patting Emma's arm. Emma gave her a tight smile.

"The thing is," Emma went on in a more reasonable tone, "if we send Ursula on a wild goose chase, it'll just drag this whole thing out. We'll be no nearer stopping her than we are now. I think our best bet is to force a confrontation with her. The longer we wait, the more souls she steals and the more undead zombie mermaid minions—who will get in our way—she has."

"Emma's right," Sir Galahad said, "strategically speaking, it's best to attack our enemy when she's at her weakest, not when she's had time to create more allies for herself."

"So," Blackbeard said, drawing out the single syllable. "You wish for me to give her a plan for stealing the trident?"

"Yes," Emma said, still refusing to look at the man. "The best and most effective plan we can come up with. If we're in on the plan, we'll know how to stop it from working."

"Have you got any ideas?" Charming asked.

"Aye," Blackbeard answered. "I'd nearly finalized plans when I decided once and for all that I do not wish to work with Ursula. Simply put, my suggestion would be to take advantage of the young princess's wedding day. Triton will already have his security forces divided between protecting him at the surface and protecting the trident underwater. If we were to create a chaotic diversion at the surface, something of sufficient danger to warrant Triton calling more of his forces to the surface, the trident will be even less protected. With Triton focused on the surface, it will be simple for a band of our own forces to storm Triton's castle and make the way clear for the trident. Once we've secured it, we call Ursula to retrieve it."

"Good plan," Rumple said, simply. "Elegant in its simplicity. Might I suggest you proceed to propose this plan to Ursula?"

"And then, what?" Snow asked.

"When Ursula comes to collect her trident, all of us are there waiting for her. We crush her like the disgusting bug she is," Rumple said.

"Brilliant plan," Regina said sarcastically, "but there's one tiny problem. Aside from the soul-less wonder over there, none of us can survive under water."

Rumple tsked and shook his head. "When are you going to stop underestimating me, dearie? I'm the Dark One. Enchanting a few people so that they can survive underwater can be done without even raising a sweat."

"Okay," Emma said, "so say you enchant us to be able to survive underwater, then what?"

"Excellent question, lass," Killian said with a glare. "The Crocodile himself has been quick to tell us how utterly unbeatable Ursula is."

"For any one of us, yes," Rumple said in obvious frustration, "but for all of us together? United with our true loves? The bitch won't stand a chance."

"True love magic!" Snow breathed. "Of course! It's the strongest magic in the universe."

"Pardon my curiosity," Blackbeard said, "but I have two questions. Once you've cornered Ursula, how do you plan to defeat her?"

"A simple encapsulation spell, I believe," Rumple said. Between Regina, Emma and me, we can cast the spell. Our true loves as well as the Charmings and Philip and Aurora are more than capable of providing all the true love power we need."

"Fair enough," Blackbeard said, "but my time here is limited. Once I've been yanked back to Ursula's realm, I will have no way to contact you. How am I to alert you to conditions on the sea bed? How am I to alert you to any wrinkles that might arise."

"Ariel," Philip said. "There's none more perfect to act as go-between."

It was a good plan. As Rumple said, elegant in its simplicity. Within a few minutes everything was arranged. Blackbeard would deliver a letter to Ariel and arrange periodic meetings with the mermaid. Ariel would be instructed to return to land and meet with the castle contingent as soon as possible.

All that remained was the week's wait until the wedding was to take place. Emma felt a surge of relief and satisfaction. This was almost over. In little over a week, they'd have defeated Ursula, and they could get the hell back to Storybrooke!

_Notes:_

_-So there you have it, the conclusion to the back-in-time section. Everything from here out will take place in the present._

_-I wanted to once again showcase Killian's character growth in the present day section. He's come to realize vengeance is not the answer—that hating another person does nothing to hurt that person and everything to hurt you. Though it was difficult, Killian and Emma decided to move past their pain in order to find a way to defeat Ursula. It's rather doubtful they'll end up on anything resembling cordial footing with Blackbeard _anytime_ soon, but at least they can stand to be on the same side as he is. I'm hoping Blackbeard gets a chance to talk to them at some point and apologize and let them know he never wanted to hurt Emma or the baby. It doesn't change what happened, but at least it might give Killian and Emma a little peace knowing they aren't teaming up with someone so evil he _purposely_ beat a pregnant woman to the point she lost her baby._

_-Three chapters to go! Up next: As Ariel and Erik's wedding day swiftly approaches, the gang prepares to put their plan into action. Unfortunately, Blackbeard's not the only one present when he meets with Ariel. A couple of sycophantic eels secretly show up and overhear way too much. What will happen if Ursula gets wind of the plan?_


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

_Waters off the Enchanted Forest, present day_

"I'll ask you one more time. Where were you?"

"Out of curiosity," the damned pirate said with an infuriating smirk, "if I refuse to answer yet again, just what is it you plan to do?"  
Ursula wanted to slap Blackbeard so hard he'd have to blow his nose from the back of his head. "I'll…I'll turn you into a blowfish you lily-livered scourge of the seven seas!"

"A blowfish," Blackbeard said with a nod. "That could be interesting. That could be interesting indeed. We both know, however, that I'd be of no use to you changed into a sea creature. We both know that sorry lot you call my crew is as likely to kill each other off as they are to come up with a useable plan to steal the trident. They need a captain with a strong hand and the patience of Job to keep them in line."

Unfortunately he was right, but that didn't mean she had to roll over and take his crap!

"You're not the only pirate captain in the realm, you know! I can always find myself another!"

"None with my skill," he said confidently. "Besides, you have no way to obtain another captain. Now that the Evil Queen has reconciled with her step daughter, you have no leverage left with anyone who has the skill to get you what you want."

Ursula ground her teeth in frustration and then forced herself to calm. _Why _was she constantly being tested like this?  
"Fine," Ursula said in a forced-neutral voice. "Would you, _please_ let me know just what it was that led you to escape?"

"What else," he said with a shrug. "Business related to my desire for vengeance."

"I told you!" Ursula bellowed. "You aren't allowed to pursue your vengeance on land until _after_ you obtain my trident for me!"

He gave her an arrogantly amused look. "And precisely when have you known pirates to care what is allowed to them and what is not.

Ursula closed her eyes and went to her happy place—a land where she had the trident and absolute power—and where this infuriating man was being tortured within an inch of his life.

"Fine, bud," she said sourly. "did you at least make progress with your revenge?"

A look she couldn't identify came and went on his face. "Oh, things are definitely…moving," he said in a careful voice.

"Good," she ground out. "And while you were busy looking to your own affairs, did you have a spare moment to think about mine?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," he said. "You, Ursula, are about to be a _very _happy octopus."

"Why's that?"

"I have a plan and it's almost _guaranteed_ to work like a charm."

Over the next fifteen minutes, Blackbeard laid out a plan so brilliant, Ursula almost kissed him. A plan in which her forces divided and conquered Triton's forces during his precious daughter's wedding. A plan in which she got the trident and ruled the world. It was both brilliant and perfect.

But Ursula had never trusted perfect. There was something else in that shaggy head of his, or her name wasn't Ursula.

"Sounds great," she said as soon as he'd laid his whole plan out. "You better get cracking. Those pirates are going to need a _lot_ of training if they're going to pull this off. Oh, and make sure they know that anyone who pillages, plunders or drinks on this mission will be zapped into next Tuesday!"

Ursula watched her captive leave, eyeing him distrustfully. When he was safely out of ear shot, she stepped from the room and bellowed for her most faithful servants. "Flotsam! Jetsam! Get your slimy asses in here!"  
The eels slithered in languidly.

"Yes your shrillness?" Flotsam asked.

"How may we serve you?" Jetsam continued.

"I need you to do something for me," Ursula said, ignoring their oily tones.

"Your wish is our command, o sea witch most vile."

"Keep an eye on that shifty captain of mine," she said. "I don't trust him as far as I can throw him. Mark my words. He's up to something."

"We'll keep two eyes on him."

….

Ursula had just sat down for her evening meal when the eels returned, an envelope held between them in their mouths. There was an amused gleam in each of their bright yellow eyes. This boded no good. Whenever those two slithering fools grinned like that, she was in for some serious bad news.

She took a fortifying sip of her wine and then turned back toward her minions. "Well?"

"Well what?" Flotsam taunted.

"Well, what news do you have for me?"

"Oh it's bad," Flotsam said.

"Truly terrible," Jetsam added.

"Exasperating," Flotsam continued.

"A true tragedy in the making," Jetsam agreed with a pious shake of his head.

"Enough!" Ursula thundered with a downward stroke of her hand. "You two idiots are giving me a headache! Either tell me what this terrible news is or leave me to dine in peace."

"Wouldn't want you to miss your meal, o chunky one," Flotsam said.

"Though in all honesty you probably could stand to skip a meal or two every once in a while," added Jetsam.

She glared. "What's that in your pie holes? Hand it over."

"Oh this thing?" Flotsam said, swimming just out of her reach. "Whatever makes you think you would be interested in this?"

"It's only a little note we happened to find within a pocket of your pirate captain's discarded pants," Jetsam added. "Only a letter he's apparently delivering from Snow White to Ariel."

Ursula blanched. Blackbeard was acting as messenger boy between Snow White and Ariel? This couldn't be good. She grabbed for the letter again, but this time Jetsam took it out of her reach.

"Hand it over, now!" she bellowed, "or I swear I'm going to make you into eel pie!"

"Now is that any way to talk to your most loyal and devoted servants?" Flotsam asked.

"Insulting, it is, indeed, Flotsam!" Jetsam said sanctimoniously.

_Sigh_. "I apologize," she said softly. "Now give me the letter."

"What's the magic word?" Flotsam asked in a sing-song voice.

Why the _hell_ couldn't she get _any_ respect from her slaves?

"Please," Ursula ground out.

"That's more like it," Jetsam said placing the letter in Ursula's outstretched hand.

Ursula carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of paper within. As she read her consternation grew. He was carrying a letter for Ariel…from Snow White? He was planning to _meet_ with the mermaid? Snow White was vouching for his trustworthiness? This could only mean one thing. Blackbeard was double crossing her! He was working directly with the folks on land in order to _defeat_ her. The sneaky, ungrateful son of a catfish!

Well, she wasn't going to stand for this. Oh no! That pirate would pay. Dearly!

"Well," Flotsam began.

"What do you think?" Jetsam continued.

"I think that pirate is messing with the wrong octopus!"

"I take it you want us to destroy the letter and bring you the pirate to punish?" Flotsam asked.

"Nah," Ursula said, thinking quickly. Blackbeard wanted to double cross her? Well two could play at that game! A beautiful, devious plan began to form. "Not yet anyway. Let him deliver the letter, and then we'll see what happens."

Pirate boy was about to learn that when you swam with the sharks, you tended to get bitten.

….

"Ariel, I have a terrible feeling about this," Erik said once again. "You know how concerned your father is about Ursula. I must urge you to reconsider."

Ariel peered down at the note in her left hand. "But don't you understand, Erik? The letter is from Snow White. She says we can trust Blackbeard, and her judgment is good enough for me."

"At least take some of your father's guards with you," Erik pleaded. "Blackbeard is a pirate. Not only that, but it appears he's _Ursula's_ pirate. Snow White may trust him, but I don't."

"Erik," Ariel said in exasperation, "we've been over this! I _can't _bring my father's soldiers along with me, because then my father would find out. As overprotective as he is, he'd never let me go."

"Maybe he's right," Erik persisted.

"Didn't you see what the note said?" Ariel asked, shaking the missive in his face. "Whatever it is that Blackbeard wishes to discuss with me, Snow says it's a matter of vital necessity, not just to them, but to all the realms."

Erik sighed and then swam awkwardly the last few feet toward her. Ariel knew he was still a bit unsteady with his tail. Reaching her, he took her into his arms, and buried his head in her hair. "I know I can't talk you out of this, Darling, but please be careful. I love you, and I couldn't stand it if anything were to happen to you."

Ariel melted, and turned his head toward her. She poured all the love in her heart into the gentle kiss that followed. "I love you too, Erik. I promise to stay on my guard. Don't worry, I'll meet with the pirate, see what he wants, and then we can get back to preparing for our wedding and the whole beautiful life that we have before us."

Erik kissed her slowly once more and then released her. "Alright," he said on a sigh. "Go. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner my mind will be at ease.

Ariel swam with purpose to the coral reef Blackbeard had assigned as a meeting place, scanning for danger, anything out of the ordinary as she went. The meeting location wasn't precisely in a bad part of the ocean, but it was far outside the purview of her father's protection. A tingle of apprehension seized her. What if Erik was right? What if this was some sort of trick?

Not long after breakfast this morning, Ariel had received the note from Snow White telling her that something terrible was happening and that they desperately needed her help. Snow had insisted that Ariel meet with the pirate Blackbeard in order to get the necessary details. Oh, Ariel knew without a doubt that the letter truly came from Snow, and she further knew that Snow would never intentionally lead her astray, but a niggling doubt still plagued her. What if Blackbeard had managed to deceive Snow?

Ariel set her face toward the reef with determination. It didn't matter. Snow White needed her help, and her help she would get! She was more grateful than words could say for Snow's friendship, for her help and encouragement during that ball when she first met Erik. Concerns or not, she would not turn from Snow in her hour of need!

The agreed upon meeting place came into view. It was quite beautiful, with all its brilliant colors, with the rays of light that somehow penetrated the murky ocean depths. Ariel looked around. She must be early. There was no sign of the pirate.

What could this be about? What could she possibly do to help Snow and her companions? What could be so important that Snow would contact her like this when she knew how busy Ariel was preparing for the wedding?

And Blackbeard! That did give her pause. Wasn't it _Blackbeard_ who the group said had attacked Robin Hood and abducted his son? Why did they trust him now? Ariel's curiosity was piqued…her curiosity and her unease.

"Welcome, madam," Ariel heard in a deep voice behind her. She jumped and spun around, putting her hand to her chest. _Blackbeard_. She needed to get it together. Being jumpy was one thing, but reacting like a scared rabbit was a different thing entirely!

"I have to admit, the princess's note piqued my curiosity," Ariel said, willing her heart rate to return to normal.

"No doubt," Blackbeard said with a chuckle. "I'd wager I'm the last person you would expect Snow White—or anyone at the castle—to endorse."

"Exactly," Ariel said, "but Snow says I can trust you, and I trust her judgment."

"I promise, your trust is not misplaced in this instance," Blackbeard said, and Ariel could hear the sincerity in his voice. "It so happens that the inhabitants of the castle and I have decided to work together in order to defeat a mutual and quite formidable enemy."

"And who might that be?"

"Ursula?"

Ariel gasped. "Ursula? The sea witch?"

"The very one."

"But…but," she spluttered, "nothing's been heard from or about her in ages. Even my mistrustful father has begun to relax again where Ursula is concerned."

"He would be most unwise to relax his guard against the demon octopus," Blackbeard said ominously. "I can tell you with absolute certainty that Ursula is very much active, and quite as formidable a foe as you could ever find."

"What does she want of us?" Ariel asked in a small voice.

"Your father's trident," Blackbeard said simply.

Ariel gasped again.

"Indeed," Blackbeard said grimly. "Can you even _imagine_ the destruction that witch could wreak if she were to come into possession of the most magical item in all the realms?"

"But," Ariel said weakly, "she wants the trident. So what? A desire for something doesn't give you that thing."

"True enough," Blackbeard said with a nod. "Unfortunately, the situation has become critical. Ursula no longer merely has the desire for the trident, she now also has a plan for obtaining it."

"How?" Ariel asked, her eyes widening.

"I gave her the plan."

Ariel swam backward several feet.

"Fear not, your majesty," Blackbeard said with a staying motion of the hand. "I assure you I mean neither you nor anyone in your father's kingdom any harm."

"How can I believe that?" Ariel asked, folding her arms. "You just told me you provided Ursula with a plan to steal my father's trident!"

"Please," Blackbeard said insistently, "hear me out, madam. I assure you the time will be well spent."

She eyed him suspiciously for several moments. He was a dangerous man, there was no doubt about that. He was wild in appearance and ruthless in reputation, and yet, Ariel had the strangest desire to trust him. There was something utterly sincere and almost deferential in his tone. Perhaps she would hear him out.

"Very well," she said finally. "Continue."

"For many weeks now I've been uneasy with the direction Ursula is heading," Blackbeard began, pacing the ocean floor. "She's begun to lust for power, and if she is to obtain it…well, there will be no one in any realm who is safe from her. At long last my unease became so great that I found myself willing to put aside my vengeance in order to stop the sea witch. To that end, I traveled to the Enchanted Forest castle with the express purpose of gaining allies for myself—and for your father—in the battle to defeat Ursula."

"And what was their response?" Ariel asked.

Blackbeard grimaced. "Much like you; suspicious at first. I…I must admit they have reason. For quite some time I lost sight of all semblance of honor, to the severe detriment of innocent people."

"But the fact that you bear a letter from Snow White indicates they got over their suspicion, does it not?"

"Indeed," Blackbeard said. "Some with more difficulty than others."

"And did you manage to determine a plan of action to stop Ursula from enacting your plan?  
"Aye," Blackbeard said with a nod. "It was actually Mrs. Jones who proposed the plan. It was her belief that we can no longer remain on the defensive. It is time we force a confrontation with Ursula. To that end, she suggested I act as a double agent of sorts. If we were to give her an iron-clad plan for stealing the trident—a plan that we are also well aware of, we are perfectly suited to stopping her."

"That makes sense," Ariel said with a nod. "What is this plan and how do you need me?"

"As to how we need you, I should think that would be obvious," Blackbeard said. "You are to be the courier, the go-between, carrying messages from our world to theirs and back."

"That I can do," Ariel said with a nod.

"Excellent," Blackbeard said. "As to our plan…well, that I fear you may have more difficulty agreeing to it."

"Why?"

"Well…" he said uneasily, "it will in all likelihood ruin your wedding."

"My wedding?" Ariel asked in confusion.

"Aye," Blackbeard said. "As it stands, the plan is this: Ursula will take advantage of your father's divided security during the wedding to steal the trident."

"No!" Ariel said in shock.

"Quite so," Blackbeard said with a nod. "We, of course, have no intention of allowing that to actually take place. When Ursula arrives in your father's kingdom, in the room where the trident is kept, she will find me, my pirates and the true love couples from the castle waiting for her. Once there, the power of Rumplestiltskin's, the Evil Queen's, and the Savior's magic combined with true love's magic will be sufficient to encapsulate Ursula and free the land from this scourge forever."

"Brilliant!" Ariel said, clapping her hands with the exuberance of a child. "It's perfect! It will work like a charm."

Suddenly the ocean erupted. Smoke and noise and confusion. There was a final loud bang, and then the smoke cleared. Ariel had only enough time to note she was wrapped tightly in a seaweed rope, before her eyes went to Ursula, herself, standing before her. Out of the corner of her eye, Ariel saw Blackbeard bound, gagged, and shackled to the coral reef.

"Oh, as to this plan working like a charm," Ursula drawled. "I seriously doubt that."

The witch was flanked on either side by a maniacally smiling eel. "Flotsam, Jetsam, now we've got her boys!" Ursula said to her slimy henchman. "The boss is on a roll!"

"Let us go!" Ariel demanded, struggling with all her might against the seaweed. If anything, her struggles only bound the rope tighter. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like, Sunshine? I'm kidnapping you."

"My father won't stand for this!" Ariel shouted. "He'll come after me! He'd do anything to save me."

Ursula laughed nastily. "Well, pet, that's precisely what I'm counting on. How much you willing to bet your precious papa will be willing to hand over his trident in order to keep me from ripping your soul clean out of your silly little body?"

Blackbeard struggled against his bonds, yelling incoherently behind his gag. Ursula turned in his direction. "And you, pirate! You have some nerve, double crossing me! Do you think I'm stupid?"

Blackbeard struggled ineffectually to speak around the gag.

"Oh, right," Ursula said, waving her hand lazily. The gag vanished.

"Do I think you're stupid?' Blackbeard bellowed. "Damn straight I do!"

Ursula got in his face. "Well that's where you're wrong!" she thundered. "I'm smart enough to figure out when I'm being played!"

"Well, done," Blackbeard said sarcastically. "It only took you about two years to figure it out."

She backhanded him across the face. Her ring dug into his cheek, tearing a long gash that promptly began bleeding profusely. He merely looked at her stonily.

"So this is how it's all going to play," Ursula said, returning to her place beside her minions. I take little princess here back to my castle, and my trusty servants take my demands to good old Triton. Simple enough deal: his trident for his daughter. I'll have the trident by nightfall!"

….

Erik swam as fast as his tail could take him. He moved slowly, far too slowly for his needs. How he wished he'd had more time to get used to this damn tail!

As he swam, one thought repeated obsessively through his mind. _I have to get to Triton before Ursula does; I have to get to Triton before Ursula does!_ The fate of his dearest love may rest on it.

Erik had watched Ariel swim away early that morning, intent on attending her tete-a-tete with Blackbeard. As she disappeared from view, the unease, the worry simply wouldn't leave him. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones; they were all on the cusp of something terrible descending.

He'd tried to dismiss the feelings, tried to laugh it off as pre-wedding jitters, needless worry for his future wife, but the fears had only increased. He'd been seized with the unshakeable certainty that his true love was in danger and needed his help.

Finally, unable to stand the anxiety any longer, he'd swam after Ariel, stopping only when he was within a hundred yards of his love and the pirate with whom she was speaking. Erik concealed himself behind a reef, peering out, listening closely, determined to be at the ready if his Ariel should need him.

Erik was suitably impressed with the plan Blackbeard outlined. With the element of surprise on their side, they had more than a reasonable chance of success. It certainly didn't fail to come to Erik's attention that Blackbeard defied Ursula at considerable danger to his own well-being.

He'd heard of Blackbeard during his many voyages on the sea. Sailors talk, gossip nearly as much as old women, and what they had to say about Blackbeard was enough to send chills down Erik's spine. The man was said to be utterly ruthless—the devil incarnate.

Watching him speaking so courteously to Ariel, outlining a plan of such considerable danger to himself for the good of all the realms, well, Erik was inclined to believe the rumors about Blackbeard were greatly exaggerated.

Erik was just about to turn away from the meeting, having concluded that his fears truly were groundless, when _it _had happened. For lack of a better term, the ocean had exploded.

And then she was there—the sea witch in all her ugly, corpulent glory! It had taken everything within Erik to keep from swimming forward, pulling his sword, hacking at the bonds securing his love, and running the weapon through the octopus's loathsome body!

But concerned as he was for the woman he loved, Erik knew such an action would be fool-hardy at best. To come out swords blazing against the greatest sorceress under the sea would be futile. It would do nothing but insure he was captured as well, and then where would his Ariel be? At least free, he had a chance to stop Ursula before it was too late.

So here he was, swimming for his life to King Triton desperate for his future father-in-law's help in saving the mermaid they both loved.

Erik arrived in Triton's kingdom just in time to see the king, himself, holding his trident and driving his chariot pell-mell through the streets, Ursula's eels grinning nastily in his wake.

_He was too late! _The eels had already gotten to Triton. What was he to do now?

He needed help. More specifically he needed the help of someone stronger than himself, someone magical, someone who had the power to defeat the nastiest witch under the sea.

Suddenly it came to him. Blackbeard's original plan for defeating Ursula may no longer be practicable, but perhaps it didn't need to be discarded entirely. Ariel wasn't the only one capable of moving between sea and land. Thanks to the cuff he wore on his right arm, he was also capable. If Blackbeard was correct about the power the residents of the Enchanted Forest castle along with their true loves could yield, they may be the only ones capable of preventing Ursula from getting the trident; the only ones capable of freeing his Ariel.

Erik abruptly changed directions, swimming for the surface. Triton was on his way to Ursula with the trident. There wasn't a moment to lose!

_Notes:_

_-I apologize for the utter lack of CS or OQ in this particular chapter. Plot reasons necessitated I focus entirely in the waters below the Enchanted Forest. Don't worry; our two well-loved couples will be prominent throughout the rest of the story._

_-As I sat down to write this chapter, I soon realized that I was a bit overly optimistic in the notes to the last chapter. There's no way I can finish this story in two more chapters! I'm going to shoot for four more. That will put this story at an even 30 chapters._

_-So things are not exactly going as planned under the sea. Ursula is poised to get the trident—and all the absolute power that comes with it. Can Erik get to the gang from Storybrooke in time to stop it?_

_-Up next: The Enchanted Forest castle residents take a trip under the sea, and the big battle commences. Can they get to Triton before he gives Ursula the trident? If not, is there _any_ way to defeat her?_


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

Emma closed her eyes, concentrating. She focused every ounce of her concentration, every ounce of her emotion on the apple sitting before her on the great hall table. She shut out the sound of the fire crackling in the grate, the voices of the Camelot knights training in the inner bailey, Roland's laughter as he played with his father and Regina. She was going to make it happen, and she was going to make it happen now. That apple was about to get the crap encapsulated out of it!

Taking a deep breath, Emma opened her eyes and then swore loudly. _Nothing_ had happened! The apple simply sat there mocking her and her inability to entrap it. She picked up the stupid piece of fruit and threw it against the far wall.

She had to get her magic to work! She had to. _Get it to work! Get it to work! _She dropped glumly into the chair at the head of the table and chuckled humorlessly to herself. If she didn't watch it she was going to end up as cracked up as Jefferson with his hats!

Yesterday they'd devised their plan to defeat Ursula, and as soon as Blackbeard had left, she, Rumple and Regina had begun practicing their encapsulation spells. It took all of five minutes to realize she was the weak link in their armor. Once before she'd managed to encapsulate Morgana Le Fay, for heaven's sake, and suddenly she couldn't even do so to a gnat!

"Concentrate Mrs. Jones," Regina said irritably. "We've got less than a week, and as powerful as that damn sea witch is, we'll need _all_ our skill to defeat her."

"You think I'm _not_ concentrating, not _trying_?" Emma demanded, rounding on Henry's other mother.

"Not hard enough, apparently," Rumple drawled. "To say that last attempt was feeble is one hell of an understatement."

"How do you expect me to accomplish anything with you too idiots breathing down my neck?" Emma had raged.

Regina rolled her eyes. "Yes, because I'm sure Ursula will just stand still and let us defeat her. You can't handle a little scrutiny during practice? I hate to think what you'll be like during the pressure of the main event."

They'd practiced for another hour, and Emma's powers only seemed to get weaker, feebler. Finally, Rumple had called it a day and suggested Emma spend some time practicing on her own before they made any more attempts at combined magic.

And practice she had. Over and over and over she'd practiced—with _no_ results. Was she even capable of producing magic anymore?

She had to be! Emma got up from her seat at the table, fished another bright red apple from the bowl and set to work again. Without her skill, they were all screwed. Rumple and Regina simply were not powerful enough on their own—not on Ursula's home turf at least.

_Come on!_ _Please, work for me!_ She extended her hand again and tried with every fiber of her being. She knew even before she opened her eyes that it was a no go. She'd felt no rush of magic, heard no slight hum behind her ears, felt no tingling in her fingertips, experienced _nothing_ that would indicate magic had taken place.

Still, when she opened her eyes, seeing the damned apple just _smirking_ up at her from its completely un-encapsulated perch, the frustration was intense. She leaned against the table, both palms laid flat, her head bowed, her shoulders drooped in defeat.

A warm, gentle hand descended on her shoulder, and she caught the scent of leather and rum and the sea. Turning, she fell into Killian's waiting embrace, and buried her face against his chest. She let a single tear fall as he held her, crooned to her.

"Sh, lass," he said in a voice as soothing as a cup of hot chocolate complete with cinnamon. "All will be well."

Emma shook her head against his chest. "No, Killian, it won't," she said brokenly. "I've tried and tried until I've nearly gone crazy, but my magic is just _gone_!"

He was silent for a moment, and then he gently stepped from her and dried her cheeks tenderly with his hand. "Come with me love," he said softly. "It's a glorious day outside, and there is a large tree in the inner bailey that is fairly begging us to sit beneath it."

Emma smiled sadly and then shook her head. "I wish I could, Killian, but I have to practice. I _have_ to get this to work! Everyone is depending on me."

Killian took her hand and tugged. "You're exhausting yourself love, going round and round with no results. It's time for a break, time for a little repose and rejuvenation."

"But…"

"No buts, Swan," he said with a grin. "You'll do neither yourself nor anyone else any favors if you practice yourself to death."

Emma wanted to argue, wanted to scream and rage about how much she needed to practice, wanted to _make_ it all happen by sheer force of will, but she knew Killian was right. She was doing no one any favors spinning her wheels like this. Finally, she silently nodded her head.

Killian laced his fingers with hers and led her to a gnarled, ancient tree under which he had laid a blanket. As soon as they were both seated, Emma turned to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head against his chest. His arms came around her, and she felt him brush a soft kiss against her hair.

She needed this, needed the love, comfort and security she could only find in his arms. Thoughts of her failure, her lack of ability threatened to overwhelm, but she forced them aside, instead resolutely focusing on the world around her—the heat of the summer afternoon, the cool breeze ruffling her hair, the gentle rustling of the leaves above her, Roland's delighted giggling as he, Robin and Regina played some game that seemed to be an odd mixture of hide-and-seek and tag.

"It will come back, love," Killian said softly. "Your magic, I mean. You will get it back. You've been through a terrible trauma and it only stands to reason that you will suffer some lingering ill effects. Give yourself time."

Emma sighed and began absently playing with one of the metal clasps of his vest. "That's just it, Killian," she said in a defeated voice. "We don't _have_ time. The big confrontation happens in less than a week. I have to be ready."

Killian let out a deep breath and began running his fingers lightly up and down her arm. "Very well, lass," he said in a matter-of-fact voice. "Let's think this through, find a useable solution. In the past, how did you produce magic?"

She thought for a moment and then slowly answered. "Rumple told me that magic is in the emotions, not the intellect. When I prepare to do magic, I focus on those I love—David and Mary Margaret, Henry, you. Mostly you. My love kind of…I don't know…bubbles up and brims over, and there you have it. Magic."

"And your love is not working now?"

How could she put this into words? "I feel like something's blocking it. It's sadness about the baby, but there's more too." Emma sat up and looked into Killian's eyes. "Every time I close my eyes, I see it. You standing there in that box full of water, about to drown. All I can see is my utter inability to save you. In my mind, I've watched you die a million times. I'm terrified of losing you."

Her tears were flowing freely now, and his eyes darkened in distress. "Sh, love. No lasting harm came to me. If there's one thing I've learned over my three hundred years of life, it's how to survive."

"But if I hadn't found that note, if our fathers hadn't come after us…"

"But you did find it and they did come," he said firmly. "Swan, you can't torture yourself with 'what ifs'. It will drive you mad. All you can do is let go of the past and move forward toward the future."

"I don't know how to let go of the fear," Emma admitted in a small voice.

"I've heard it said that perfect love casts out fear," Killian said reflectively. "You are no longer alone. I am with you, working with you, fighting at your side, loving you with everything within me."

"But you weren't with me that morning," Emma said. "I woke up and you were just gone. No note, no goodbye, just…gone."

He drew a ragged breath. "I am sorrier than I can say for doing that to you, love. I found that note and panic took over. I _had_ to protect you. You and the…and the baby. I swear to you it won't happen again. From this moment, we discuss and find solutions to our problems _together_."

Emma nodded and fell back into his arms, placing a gentle kiss over his heart. The little catch in his voice when he mentioned the baby broke her heart. Over the past week and a half since it happened, everyone had been so concerned about her—about her physical health, about her heartbreak at the loss of the baby—that they had nearly forgotten that Killian had suffered a terrible loss as well.

"Killian," she said, caressing his cheek and looking into his eyes, "are you okay? I mean _really_ okay. I know how much you loved that baby already."

His eyes flooded for a moment, but he blinked the tears back and gave her a gentle smile. He leaned forward and kissed her gently. "Aye, love. The pain, the loss is…agonizing, but we will get through it together."

Emma kissed him, long and deep and thoroughly. They spoke a language too profound for words, lips fused, breath shared, tongues tangling. After long minutes, Emma pulled back, breathing hard, and rested her forehead against his.

"How are we going to survive it, Killian?" she asked softly. "Working with Blackbeard, I mean."

He closed his eyes for a moment. "We persevere, put aside our grievance in service of an objective bigger than both of us…all of us."

"Is that what you did in Neverland?" Emma asked. "I know how much Rumple hurt you. It must have been awful to team up with him."

"Aye, Killian admitted, "but helping you, saving Henry was too important. I _couldn't _focus on my own pain."

She nodded, opening her mouth to respond, but suddenly Little John's voice rang out again. "Someone's coming! Someone's coming!"

What was he, the Merry Men's version of Leroy?"

Killian helped Emma to her feet, and the pair followed after Robin and Regina who were already running. They met up at the base of the watch tower.

"Who is it?" Regina shouted up at Robin's large right hand man.

"I don't…wait! Yes I do. I do know who it is!" Little John said. "It's Prince Erik."

"Erik?" Emma asked, her brow furrowing. "Is Ariel with him?"

"No, he's alone. He's riding like the wind, and he looks…distressed."

Foreboding pooled in the pit of Emma's stomach. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. She had the inescapable feeling that their plans were about to change yet again.

….

Emma put her hand up and fingered the slits along both sides of her neck. Rumple had given them gills. _Freaking gills!_ She had to admit, they came in rather useful as the whole group—she, Killian, her parents, Robin, Regina, Philip, Aurora, Belle, Rumple and Erik—swam ever deeper into the murky depths of the sea.

It was surreal.

Killian reached for her hand, and she laced her fingers with his. The big battle—in whatever form that might take—was looming large before them, and both of them seemed to need the connection. Who was to know what the next hour might bring?

Little less than an hour past, Erik had stormed the castle in an absolute panic, raving about Ursula and kidnapping and Triton and the trident and Blackbeard. It had taken them some time to piece together what he was saying enough to know trouble was brewing. _Serious_ trouble.

They'd convened a quick war council and decided that the confrontation could wait no longer. A hasty battle plan was concocted. If they could get to Ursula before Triton handed over the trident, they had a chance. If not…well, things could get dicey.

"Now remember, dearies," Rumplestiltskin said from his place at the front of the pack of swimmers, "regardless, we're going to have quite a fight before us. Ursula has a veritable army of undead mermaids at her disposal."

"Undead soldiers that we can't kill or even harm with our weapons, right?" Emma said dryly.

"Precisely."

"You gotta love those odds," Regina said with a roll of the eyes.

"So basically you're marching us in to a slaughter?" Philip asked in annoyance.

Rumple giggled and Emma rolled her eyes. He was annoying as hell in this realm! "Of course not, dearie! I value my sparkly golden hide far too much for that. We don't have to _kill_ the merpeople; we simply have to incapacitate them. Those of us endowed with magic will have the advantage, but the rest of you won't be helpless. Simply knock their weapons aside and tie them up."

"Oh, is that all?" Charming asked sarcastically.

"Rumple," Robin began slowly. "What if we were to…say…increase our odds?"

"How so?"

"From what Erik told us, the merpeople have become, essentially, Ursula's mind-numbed robots, but the same cannot be said of her human captives. It seems the pirates have retained their mental faculties. If we were to get them on our side, our ability to fight Ursula's minions would be significantly heightened."  
"Maybe," Rumple said with a sidelong look at Killian, "if you think it's wise to trust _pirates_." He spat the word like it was the vilest of curses.

Emma felt Killian stiffen beside her, and she squeezed his hand. "For my part," she said with a hard glare at the Dark One, "I've often found pirates to be men of bravery, skill and honor. If we can get them, I think we'd be stupid to pass up the opportunity. The question is, _how_ do we get them on our side."

"Simple enough," Killian said with a smile in her direction. "Pirates are unswervingly loyal to their captain. Get to the captain…who is purportedly already on our side…and you've got the pirates."

"Pirates also tend to be self-serving," Regina said. "We give them a reason to believe fighting for us is in their best interest, they'll fight for us—to the death. Perhaps all we need to do is remind them that if Ursula is defeated, their souls can be retrieved, and their slavery is ended."

"Perfect! Then we're in agreement," Charming said. "We find Blackbeard and the rest of his men and persuade them to fight for us."

After some discussion it was decided that Erik would lead Snow and Charming to the reef to which Blackbeard was shackled. They'd free him and then retrieve the rest of the pirates. Believing it would be in their best interest to have as many allies as possible, Erik suggested he return to Triton's kingdom and gather as many of Triton's soldiers as he could muster.

The group continued to swim, the ocean floor slowly coming into view. There was one last thing Emma had to know before they reached Ursula's castle.

"Rumple, you said we have a chance as long as Ursula doesn't have the trident yet. What happens if she _does_ get it before we reach her?"

The sparkly imp grimaced. "Then we're screwed."

"Surely there's _something_ we can do?"

"With the trident in her hand, no amount of skill or magic on our part will stop or encapsulate her," Rumple said ominously

"Then the answer's simple," Charming said optimistically. "She gets the trident before we arrive? We knock it from her hand, then you guys work your magic as fast as you can."

….

"Daddy, no!" Ariel screamed.

Ursula smiled, feeling victory. She'd won; she'd actually won!

"Your choice, buddy," Ursula said. "Your daughter or your trident."

Triton frowned at her in defiance for a moment more, and then slowly dropped his head and extended his arm, dropping his most potent weapon into Ursula's hand.

She had it! The trident was hers! Ursula felt herself growing, becoming larger than life. The hum of absolute power raced through her veins. She looked scornfully down at the merman who had banished her, who had opposed her, who had made her life hell. She pointed the trident in his direction, and with a flick of her wrist, she ripped the soul from his body and planted it in her garden.

"No!" Ariel shrieked, lunging against her bonds. Foolish girl. Poor, deluded, foolish girl! Ursula raised the trident once again, intent on punishing the silly little mermaid as severely as her father.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Dearie," came a mocking voice from the doorway. Ursula looked up in surprise and found herself face to face with a good half a dozen…humans? How the hell did humans make it to her humble abode without drowning?

"Surprised to see us?" the man continued. "Allow me to introduce myself. Rumplestiltskin." The man bowed formally.

_Rumplestiltskin? The Dark One?_ _What was _he _doing here?_

"Ah," Rumple said, "I see my reputation precedes me."

"Yeah," Ursula said with a smirk. "Everyone's heard of the Dark One."

"Then you also know it's unwise to oppose me, don't you?" the sparkly golden imp asked.

Ursula laughed. "Yeah, maybe that was true before, but newsflash, genius. I've got the trident. I'm officially unstoppable."

Rumple giggled. "I think you'll soon find that overconfidence killed the octopus."

Ursula didn't have time for this; she really didn't. Best deal with this motley crew as soon as possible; they were getting on her nerves. She flicked her hand, and her army of merpeople flocked to her side.

"Choose carefully, humans," Ursula said ominously. "I'll give you one last chance. Leave now, and I might let you live. Continue to oppose me, and, well, I can promise you things are about to get _real_ for you in a big way."

A blonde woman with a handsome dark haired man at her side yelled and charged forward. _Sigh_. So a battle then?

….

Anger coursed through Killian as the battle commenced. Holding his sword before him, his hook at the ready, he dove into the fray. This nasty purple octopus was not going to win the day, not with him and his true love aligned against her!

Ursula flicked her hand and an army of blank-eyed merpeople poured into the great hall. With one eye on Emma, making sure she was well and safe, Hook engaged his first foe, a huge blonde merman. He thrust his sword at his opponent, but it slid through without producing a scratch. The merman attempted to stab him with his own sword, but Killian danced out of the way. Then, dropping his useless sword, Killian curled his hand into a fist and punched the living daylights out of the merman before him. The man crashed to the seabed like a felled tree.

Killian turned quickly to engage his next opponent. The battle waged fiercely around him. Curses, fireballs, fists and grunts of pain filled the chaotic great hall. Ursula had yet to use the trident. No doubt, she feared to hit her minions. As Killian wrapped an arm around the neck of a large merman, blocking his windpipe, he wondered idly what exactly would happen to one of the soul-less throng should he or she be hit by a ray of the trident.

Five minutes later, things were beginning to look desperate. The mer-army had effectively backed the Enchanted Forest contingent into a corner. Killian fought desperately, knowing they only had moments before they were defeated.

A wild-looking mermaid swam up to him and raised a sword, preparing for the kill. There was nothing he could do, utterly no way he could stop it. He had time only to take a protective step to the right in front of Emma. This was it.

And then suddenly, the mermaid's eyes went unfocused and she crumpled to the seabed. Killian found himself face to face with a grinning Prince Charming holding a large beam of wood.

"Looked like you could use a little help," Charming said.

Killian clasped his father-in-law's hand gratefully. "About time you showed up, Mate."

And my had he shown up! Killian glanced past Charming and saw Blackbeard and a huge throng of rough-looking pirates pour through the great hall door. With shouts and rather profane oaths, the men set in to attack the merpeople.

"Took a bit of time to convince that group of fools to join with a prince of the realm," Charming said over his shoulder as he began fighting his next opponent, "but turns out, offer pirate slaves freedom, and they'll join you and fight like the devil himself."

All was utter confusion in the great hall. It was a huge, old room, but packed as it was with furious fighting, it felt nothing short of cramped. A blinding orange flash of light rushed past Killian's ear and he heard a gasp of pain behind him. Spinning quickly, he found one of the pirates lying senseless on the ground.

It looked like Ursula had finally joined the fray. Wonderful.

Erik returned with an army of merpeople, and the fight became even more confused. Killian's muscles began to scream as the battle raged on and on. How much longer could he keep this pace?

Somehow they had to find a way to separate Ursula from the trident…and soon, or they would all be lost. Killian glanced to the sea witch as he knocked out his latest opponent. She sat on a throne on the dais, pointing the trident, preparing to attack again. Killian looked at the trajectory of the weapon and froze.

Ursula was pointing her damned weapon directly at Emma.

"Swan!" he screamed, pushing merpeople aside, running as fast as his legs would carry him. But it didn't matter; he was going to be too late!

….

Blackbeard looked up at Hook's agonized shout and immediately saw what was about to take place. Thinking quickly, he leapt forward. They might just have a tiny sliver of a chance if they moved quickly.

"Dark One," he growled as he moved forward, "get ready!"

Ursula raised the trident and flicked her wrist. Focused as she was with her current opponent, Hook's lady had no idea of her danger. Blackbeard sprinted forward, knocking aside glassy-eyed merpeople along the way.

Blackbeard reached Hook's lady just as Ursula let a beam of deadly magic fly from the trident. In one swift move, he shoved Emma aside and threw his sword at Ursula's outstretched hand.

And then the beam of magic connected with his chest. He felt a moment of blinding pain, and then the darkness swallowed him.

….

"Swan!"

Emma startled at her husband's frantic shout. She looked up just in time to see Ursula pointing the trident at her. She froze; the moment seemed to go in slow motion. She saw Ursula's lips move, saw a streak of orange light fly from the trident, and then felt herself violently shoved aside.

Emma hit the ground and then twisted to see what had happened. It seemed Blackbeard had sacrificed himself for her. Getting to her feet, Emma turned back to look at Ursula. A startled look crossed the octopus's face as she looked down at her empty hand. It appeared they had even more to thank Blackbeard for; he'd knocked the trident from her hand!

"Regina! Gold!" Emma shouted. "Now!"

They had only moments before Ursula found the trident and once again took possession of it. Emma saw the former Evil Queen and the Dark One step to either side of her and raise their hands.

"On three, Mrs. Jones," Regina said in a cold, deadly voice. Emma nodded and listened as the other woman spoke the count down.

"Three!" Regina shouted, and Emma closed her eyes in concentration. Letting all the love she felt for her husband, for her son, for her parents, even for the unborn child who would never be born to her, flood her system, she extended her arm.

A smile wreathed her face as she felt the familiar tingle, the familiar rush of magic. It was back! The magic was back!

Ursula's furious screech was abruptly cut off, and Emma opened her eyes.

"We did it!" Regina breathed.

Where one moment before Ursula had sat, there was now nothing but a large, intricately decorated golden box. They'd done it! They'd encapsulated the sea witch!

It was over. They'd won!

_Notes:_

_-Whew! The battle's over; Ursula's been defeated. I'll kind of miss her ridiculousness, but it was time. She was getting just a little too power hungry for everyone's good! _

_-I have officially decided that action/battle scenes are HARD to write. There's so much going on, so many moving pieces, that it's hard to know which way to turn. I thought about telling the last half of this chapter from a more third-person omniscient perspective, but, I hadn't gone with that route throughout any other places in the story, so I contented myself with telling little snippets of the battle from multiple people's perspectives._

_-Blackbeard kind of redeemed himself there by knocking the trident out of Ursula's hand and sacrificing himself to save Emma. I suspect this will go a long way toward helping Killian and Emma to forgive him once and for all._

_-Oh, by the way, I didn't really have a good chance to work this detail into the chapter, but the Camelot knights and the Merry Men/Mulan stayed behind at the Enchanted Forest castle and are guarding/babysitting Roland and Briar Rose (Philip and Aurora's about 18-month old daughter). I didn't want anyone concerned about leaving the kids to their own devices!_

_-Up next: The aftermath of the battle. Did the zombie merpeople keep fighting with their leader out of commission? Will they (and the pirates) get their souls back? How did the Enchanted Forest folks fare? Were there any casualties? What did the beam from the trident do to Blackbeard? Is he dead and beyond help? So many questions! :-)_


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

_Waters off the Enchanted Forest, present day_

Emma dropped her hands and took a deep breath. As the adrenaline of the battle wore off, the exhaustion rushed in. When they got back to Storybrooke, she wanted to sleep for a week.

Slowly, Emma raised her head and surveyed the great hall. Soulless mermaids and mermen merely stood there, treading water, blank stares firmly in place. It appeared when Ursula was defeated they just…stopped. Dropped their weapons and stopped.

Emma watched as Enchanted Forest couples slowly found each other. Belle ran to Rumple, crying and wrapping him in her arms. Robin picked up Regina and twirled her in the air. Philip cupped Aurora's face and tenderly kissed her. Her dad rushed to the secluded corner where her mom, in her very pregnant state, sat out the battle.

Where was Killian? Emma scanned the hall again, frantically. Finally she spotted him, right in the thick of what had five minutes ago been the fiercest of the fighting. As she watched, he slowly sank to his knees.

Emma was running before she even knew she'd moved. He wasn't getting up. Why wasn't he getting up? Surely he wasn't injured. She'd already lost the baby; she couldn't lose him too!

"Killian!" she shouted, sliding to a stop at his side and sinking to her knees before him.

He raised his head and smiled, and Emma was relieved to see his eyes clear and free from pain. He raised his hand and cupped her cheek.

"Emma," he breathed tiredly.

She turned her head and kissed his palm. "Are you alright? You're not hurt are you? Oh, Killian! You're bleeding!"

She saw the crimson patch staining his right thigh. He looked down, quizzically, and then probed the wound with his hook. "It's just a scratch, love. Fear not, it would take a lot more than an army of undead merpeople to fell the fearsome Captain Hook."

Not convinced, Emma ripped at the leather covering his thigh and surveyed the damage for herself. She blew out a sigh of relief when she saw he was right. The cut was not deep and had already stopped bleeding. It would be tender for a few days, but he shouldn't suffer any lasting damage.

"Shame though," Killian said, looking down. "My favorite pants. Bloody waste of them."

Emma laughed. "We'll get you new pants, you idiot."

And then she crushed him to her in a hug that likely was tight enough to bruise his ribs. He returned the embrace, holding her close, burying his face in her hair. She felt his relief in the way he clung to her.

"And you, love?" he muttered against her neck. "You are well?"

She pulled back to look in his eyes. "Yeah," she said with a tender smile. "I'm fine; not a scratch."

He leaned forward and gently kissed her, his lips warm and comforting as they moved against hers. Suddenly it came home to her once again that it was over; the newest villain was defeated. They could go home and _really _start their life together.

"I did it, Killian," she said in wonder after they'd finally pulled apart. "Just like you said, my magic came back."

He caressed her cheek, and the look he gave her was nothing short of adoration. "I never doubted you for a moment, Swan. No bloody villain stands a chance against the mighty Emma Jones. You're a hero lass."

She leaned into his touch and smiled. She surveyed the many unconscious merpeople that surrounded her husband. "You didn't do so bad yourself, pirate."

He grinned sheepishly and scratched behind his ear. "I didn't do so much."

She raised his face, forcing him to look in her eyes. "You were my rock, my support, my confidence when I no longer had any left. Without you, without your love I couldn't have succeeded. And you know what Rumple said; our magic alone wouldn't work. We needed the abiding love of all of our true loves in order to defeat that sea bitch."

"Aye," Killian said gently. "And my true love is something you may always count on. It will never fail. It will always be at your disposal."

"I think you were right way back when we climbed that beanstalk," Emma said.

"How so?"

"We make quite the team."

"That we do, lass. That we do."

….

It was strange, Killian thought, how the battle just stopped. As soon as Ursula was encapsulated, her enslaved merpeople immediately dropped their weapons, stopped their aggression and just…floated there. It was a bit disconcerting. What would become of them now that their slave master was defeated?

Killian held Emma to him, grateful beyond words that she was safe, that nothing had happened to her.

"Lass," he said, "when I looked toward the witch and saw her pointing her trident at you…there are no words to describe my fear."

Emma turned in his embrace. "If it hadn't been for Blackbeard…"

"We've much to thank him for."

Killian scanned the hall, looking for the pirate. Whatever had happened between them in the past, whatever grievances he might have against the man, Killian owed him a debt of gratitude now, and he intended to pay it.

"What became of him, love?" Killian asked, not seeing Blackbeard among the merpeople, pirates and Enchanted Forest residents who were milling around, laughing and exclaiming in their relief.

Emma turned and looked. "I don't really know," she said. "I…I think he was hit."

Together, Emma and Killian made their way toward the dais on which the encapsulated Ursula was currently placed. Five feet from Ursula's throne, Killian saw Blackbeard's prone body. He rushed as quickly as his injured thigh would permit to the fallen man. Falling to a knee, he placed two fingers along the man's neck and waited.

"His heart still beats, lass," Killian said with relief. "I know not what Ursula did to him, but he yet lives."

"Separated from his soul, his body cannot die," the Crocodile said, coming over to join them, his arm wrapped around his wife.

"Not even with a hit from the trident?" Emma asked.

"Not in his present state," Rumple said grimly. "Once his soul is returned to his body, who's to know the result?"

Emma crouched next to Killian and rested a hand on the pirate's chest. "I owe him my life. Even after…what he did before, I can't help but hope he pulls through."

"So Rumple," Charming said, "what exactly will happen to everyone whose souls Ursula took?"

Killian looked around and found that they were flanked by his in laws, and indeed all those from the Enchanted Forest castle.

"Ideally, dearie, they'll get their souls back and go back to doing whatever it is they were doing before."

"Ideally?" Regina asked. "Why ideally?"

"Well," Rumple said, "Ursula's defeated and yet the zombie merpeople remain. It's a mystery to me why that should be the case."

"Maybe they need someone to free them," Ariel said from just outside their circle. Snow stepped back and let the mermaid and her true love in. Killian noticed she held her father's trident firmly in her hand as though afraid someone else would try to take it from her.

"What do you propose, Dearie?" the Crocodile asked.

Ariel gestured with the trident. "My father's trident is the most powerful magical item in all the realms. Maybe we could use it to return the souls to their owners."

"Certainly worth a shot," Regina said. "Hand it over, Mermaid."

Ariel held the trident closer to her chest and shot Regina an accusatory look.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Regina said with a roll of her eyes. "I don't have any intention of stealing the damn thing! But you have to admit, it would be unwise for a non-magical person to try to wield a powerful magical object. You'd be more likely to turn all of us to unicorns than to free those souls."

Ariel shot Regina a stubborn look, and Erik put a supportive arm around her shoulders. "Forgive me, Your Majesty," Ariel said. "But the last time I had any dealings with you, I ended up mute and separated from my true love. You'll have to forgive my skepticism."

Regina looked away. "Yeah, I guess I can't blame you. I'm the Evil Queen after all."

Robin gently tipped her face up to his. "You _were_ the Evil Queen, my love," he said firmly. "That's who you _were_, not who you are. I'd wager there's not a man, woman or merperson here who doesn't regret something they've done in their past."

"I don't," supplied a grizzled pirate in the back of the crowd where he was systematically rifling through the pockets of the unconscious wounded who littered the great hall, relieving them of any valuables they might possess. His equally grizzled companion took advantage of the pirate's inattention and swiped a bag full of gold from his pocket. Killian rolled his eyes, feeling a surge of pity for Blackbeard. It would take a better man than he to captain those buffoons without resorting to murder.

"Regardless," Robin said, turning back to Regina. "You've more than redeemed yourself in my eyes at least. I've no doubt you are entirely trustworthy."

Regina smiled softly, and Killian marveled at the delight brightening her face. Had he ever seen the woman look so young, carefree and _happy_?

"Maybe," Ariel said carefully, "but this is my father's trident. I just can't risk it."

"Emma," Killian said, breaking the awkward silence that descended. "My Emma has the power to do what you wish. She's more than capable of using the trident to free the trapped souls, and you need fear nothing where she is concerned. She's the savior and the bravest, noblest, strongest bloody woman I've ever known."

The Crocodile rolled his eyes and made an exaggerated gagging noise. "Best go with Mrs. Jones, Ariel," he said dryly. "Between the outlaw and the pirate, it's getting thick in here. We're all in danger of dying from the sickening sweetness."

Emma grinned up at Killian, and he returned the gesture. The Crocodile would always be the Crocodile.

Ariel looked at Emma speculatively for another moment and then nodded. Extending her hand, she passed over the trident.

"Wait!" a pirate near the edge of the Enchanted Forest circle called. "What does this mean for us? The merpeople get their souls back, they can just go on their merry way. We get ours back at the bottom of the sea, we drown."

"He does have a point," Emma said.

"There's an easy solution, dearie," The Crocodile said with heavy sarcasm. "If you don't want to drown at the bottom of the sea, make your way to the surface. There's nothing keeping you captive anymore."

"Hey, that's a pretty good plan, Dark One!" a smooth-faced young pirate said.

The Crocodile rolled his eyes.

"Alright everyone," Emma said, Storybrooke sheriff taking over. "Grab your fallen comrades and head for the shore. I'll wait ten minutes and then I'll let this baby rip."

Snow stepped forward and bent down next to Blackbeard. "Don't worry, Emma," she said. "Your father and I will personally see that Blackbeard's cared for."

"It's the least we can do after he saved your life," Charming continued.

Killian nodded his thanks and then watched as his father-in-law heaved the pirate over his shoulder, and his mother-in-law swam at his side. Once they'd disappeared from view, Killian turned back toward Emma. He gave her an encouraging smile and then gestured toward the trident.

"Well," Emma said, "here goes nothing."

The lass closed her eyes, clearly deep in concentration. A beam of white light flowed from the three prongs of the trident and settled over Ursula's garden. After a moment, the magical light fell to cover the entire expanse of it. Suddenly, the souls began to uproot themselves and fly through the air. One by one the still, glassy eyed merpeople began to gasp, shake their heads, and look around themselves in confusion.

"It worked!" Emma said, turning toward Killian. "Looks like everything's going to be back to normal around here pretty soon."

"Aye, love," Killian said with a broad grin. "What say we travel to the surface to ascertain how the pirates fared?"

"Sounds good to me."

….

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

Five days later, Emma sat in the room her parents called the "parlor" along with Killian, the Charmings, Sir Galahad and Sir Gawain. It was a mini family reunion of sorts. Even now, more than two years after Henry first brought her to Storybrooke, it still seemed almost surreal to Emma that she _had_ a family with whom to have a family reunion.

Sipping at her hot chocolate—that was suffering from a sad lack of cinnamon, the spice being a bit difficult to come by in this realm—Emma shook her head in amused embarrassment. Killian's father and her own foster father had spent half the evening regaling them with humiliating stories of their offspring's youthful exploits.

"Did I ever tell you the story of the time Emma kissed the frog?" Galahad asked with a laugh.

"Pretty sure I've kissed quite a few of those throughout the years," Emma muttered, settling more firmly into Killian's embrace and resigning herself to another round of funny stories told at her expense.

Killian leaned down and whispered in her ear. "Perhaps, love, a certain pirate may find time to erase all those other memories with kisses so potent they will make you forget your own name."

She grinned up at him. "You've got a pretty high opinion of your…talents, don't you Romeo?"

He winked at her…slowly…and her traitorous heart skipped a beat. "I keep my opinions firmly tethered upon fact, darling."

She rolled her eyes and playfully punched him. Looking up, she caught her mother's amused look.

The stories and beverages and laughter continued to flow. This was…nice. How long had Emma longed for an evening like this? Nothing remarkable, just a pleasant easy few hours to be with family. How many times had she sat in the group home crying, desperate for someone…anyone…to love her? Now she had a family, a true love, a son, the promise of more children to come, and an entire town that she was convinced would go to the mat for her.

And for a moment, for a blessed moment that would probably be all too short, there was no danger hanging over their heads, no catastrophe looming large, no villain trying to take over the world, no curses threatening to take them away from everyone they loved. For now, there was just…peace.

It was their last night in the Enchanted Forest. After two and a half months and enough action, adventure, pain and heartbreak to last her a decade, they were finally going home. Emma was surprised to find the thought bittersweet. True, she missed Henry, missed Storybrooke, missed all the modern conveniences she had in the Land Without Magic, but Fairytale Land had its perks too. The Enchanted Forest _not_ threatened by a big bad villain was really a beautiful and…well…_enchanting_…place.

Emma smiled to herself remembering that it no longer had to be _either_ Storybrooke _or_ the Enchanted Forest. Now, thanks to King Triton, they had access to both.

Five days ago when the smoke of the battle had cleared, so to speak, everyone had taken a few minutes to assess the situation. They'd all fared remarkably well. Despite the ferocity of the battle, the only fatalities had been two non-enslaved mermen who had the misfortune of being directly hit by a ray from the trident. There were several bumps, bruises, broken bones, concussions and lacerations, of course, but that was only to be expected.

King Triton was so grateful to the Enchanted Forest contingent that he'd insisted they attend his daughter and Prince Erik's wedding at the end of the week. They were to be his guests of honor at the reception, and, all possible honors among merkind were to be bestowed on them.

"That's really not necessary, your highness," Emma had insisted. "It was the least we could do. An Ursula with complete power…well, we didn't want that any more than you did."

"It matters not, my lady," Triton had said, bowing so low that his long, white beard touched the ground. "The fact remains, were it not for all of you, we never would have succeeded in ridding our land of the scourge that has been plaguing us for decades. My unsuspecting merpeople would still be falling prey to her enslavement, and the magic trident would be in the hands of an absolute monster. Please, you are in my debt. Allow my kingdom to show its gratitude."

And really, how could they resist after a speech like that?

"I can't speak for anyone else," Emma had said, "but my husband and I would be honored to attend Ariel's wedding."

The rest of the gang similarly accepted…which was a good thing, because Ariel flat out insisted they all be a formal part of her wedding. Emma was to be the matron of honor while Snow, Regina, Belle and Aurora were to be bridesmaids. Erik had his own contingent of groomsmen, but Ariel made sure that Killian, Charming, Robin, Rumple and Phillip had positions of highest honor. Little Roland was, of course, to serve as the ring bearer.

Triton, not feeling an invitation to his daughter's wedding festivities thanks enough, had offered them a far greater expression of his gratitude.

"My trident is always at your disposal," he'd said. "If ever you wish to travel between the realms, I shall be pleased to open a portal for you…you or any you hold dear. My daughter travels to your realm with a great deal of frequency. Should one of your own at this Storybrooke wish to return to Fairytale land, I shall be pleased to accompany my daughter to your realm and open a portal for you. And know that you will always be welcome within the bounds of my kingdom."

It had been quite the gift. All manner of possibilities opened before Emma and Killian's eyes. Visions of vacations with their fathers, a second honeymoon in Camelot, an escape for the less fortunate should the next villain—and let's be real, of course one day there would be another villain—should happen to target Storybrooke, danced before their eyes and fueled their thoughts and dreams as they fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

Yes, everything had turned out better than Emma could have expected. The only fly in the ointment was Blackbeard. When they'd all returned to the shore, they'd found to their relief that the return of Blackbeard's soul hadn't resulted in his death, but it was clear that Ursula's trident strike had done a massive amount of damage. For a couple of days, he'd tottered precariously on the ledge between death and life. At long last, Friar Tuck had joyfully announced that he was confident that the pirate would make a full recovery. Even so, the man had yet to wake.

Emma's mind was severely conflicted when it came to Blackbeard. On the one hand, he _had_ saved her life, made a heroic sacrifice to ensure they had the chance they needed to defeat Ursula. On the other hand the pain and anger of what he'd done to Killian, to their baby, to her, simply would not pass. Maybe if she could just get some…closure…with the whole situation she could move on, but with Blackbeard still dead to the world, it looked unlikely that she would get her chance before they left just after the wedding tomorrow evening.

Well, she supposed, she couldn't expect to get everything. Maybe one day she and Killian would be able to come to some sort of…understanding…with Blackbeard. Maybe one day they'd be able to hash out all the pain and anger and indebtedness and build…some kind of civil relationship out of the ashes.

The thing was, Emma had seen a different side of Blackbeard when he pushed her aside and took onto himself the attack meant for her. Suddenly she saw that Blackbeard was more than the nasty, vengeful pirate who had caused her baby's death. Suddenly, she realized that just maybe, there was a man of honor hidden deep down below the angry man who would do anything to get his vengeance. Suddenly she realized that Blackbeard was far more like her husband than she ever would have dreamed.

"If the two of you have finished regaling the lot of us at my wife and my expense," Killian said with a grin, "it's been a long day and tomorrow promises to be longer. It's time we sought our bed."

"Perfect," Charming said with a chuckle. "You guys leave, Snow and I can really get the goods on you two."

Emma groaned. Maybe it was a bad idea to introduce her parents to the knights.

_Notes:_

_-A rather sedate chapter after all the action of the last one. So basically, all our main characters survived the conflict, the mermaids and pirates got their souls back, Blackbeard is still unconscious after his attack with the trident, the gang's heading to Ariel and Erik's wedding and then returning to the Enchanted Forest the next day, and Triton has provided them with a way of creating portals whenever they want.  
-Up next: Three main scenes: 1. Blackbeard wakes and he, Emma and Killian are able to get the reconciliation and closure they're looking for. 2. An Outlaw Queen scene. Sorry I can't be more specific than that without giving it away. 3. The gang returns to Storybrooke and there's a huge town-wide celebration at Granny's._


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

_Enchanted Forest, present day_

Emma turned her head and swatted at the fly buzzing around her face. It followed her, determinedly tickling her cheek. She swatted again, finally opening her eyes.

Instead of an annoying insect, she found herself looking into the far too innocent blue eyes of her husband who was conspicuously holding a feather in his hand.

Emma sat up and glared at him, folding her arms grumpily. "You know, _Hook_, I know we're still newlyweds, but one day you're going to learn that waking me up is distinctly hazardous to your health."

He grinned irreverently. Giant idiot!

"Come now love," he said with a smirk, "it's a beautiful morning! The last we'll have in the Enchanted Forest for some time. Surely you don't want to waste it in sleep."

"One day, I'm going to teach you the pleasures of sleeping late," she grumbled.

One eyebrow came up in the way that never ceased to make the delightful shivers run up and down her spine. "Oh, darling," he drawled, "I can certainly think of one way you could convince me to while away the day within our bed."

She rolled her eyes, swatted his arm…and blushed. Seriously? How was he still able to make her blush?

"Shall I give you a demonstration of what I mean?" he asked huskily, gathering her into his arms.

"What about enjoying the beautiful morning and taking advantage of our last day in the Enchanted Forest?" she asked.

He kissed her, deeply, passionately, thoroughly. She returned the gesture.

"I think we can both agree that there's enjoying the Enchanted Forest and then there's _enjoying _the Enchanted Forest" he said, trailing wet kisses down her neck and going to work on the buttons of her ridiculously demure nightgown.

She grinned and then moaned. "Alright pirate," she said breathily, "show me how to _enjoy_ the Enchanted Forest."

His lips claimed hers again in a kiss that seared her to her very toes.

And then there was a knock at the door.

"Seriously?" Emma asked. "Why the hell are we spending our honeymoon period with a castle full of the most annoying people in the world?!"

Killian sat up, and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I've no idea, love," he growled, "but right now whoever's out there is lucky my hook and sword are on the far side of this chamber."

"Emma? Killian?" Snow's voice came from the other side of their bedroom door. "Are you awake?"

With a sigh, Emma got to her feet and padded toward the door. "I'll see if I can get rid of her, Killian, then we can…pick things up where we left off."

Snow took in Emma's mussed hair and the several undone buttons of her nightgown. "Uh, sorry." she said with an uncomfortable look . "I didn't mean to…interrupt anything."

"It's okay mom," Emma said, hastily putting her hair and clothing to rights. "Is there something you needed?"

"Well, not me, exactly," Snow said looking away. "It's Blackbeard."

"Blackbeard?" Emma asked sharply. She heard Killian get out of bed and pad to her side. A moment later, his hand rested warm and comforting on her shoulder. "What about Blackbeard."

"Well," Snow said, looking back at them with discomfort. "He woke up early this morning. He's asking to see you. Both of you. But I understand if…I mean I know how difficult that would be. If you're not up to it…"

Emma drew in a deep breath. Was she ready to see him again, to confront him? How did you even deal with someone who was responsible for both your baby's death and for saving your life? Anger, pain, gratitude and a grudging respect all churned within Emma, and she didn't know how to handle it.

"Swan?" Killian said, turning her to face him. "Your mother's right. If conversing with Blackbeard would be too painful you needn't do it. I can speak to the man alone. I am perfectly capable of expressing our gratitude for the service he rendered us."

For a moment Emma considered taking Killian up on his offer. They'd be leaving the Enchanted Forest soon, and then she'd never have to see the pirate again. She could simply put him from her mind and move on with her life.

But the fact was, she knew she couldn't. All her life she'd run away. It was just what she did. The problem with running away, though, was that you never got closure; you never got to process your emotions and your reactions. The wounds you carried never healed, they just festered, spreading and infecting every other aspect of your life.

No. For her sake and for Killian's, far more than for Blackbeard's, she needed this conversation.

"It's okay Mom, Killian," she said finally. "This is something that I need to do."

She turned back to face Snow. "Just give us a few minutes to get dressed and then we'll go meet with him."

Snow leaned in and hugged her. "You're an amazing woman, honey," she said with tears in her eyes. "You really are. I know your loss is still fresh and the pain is still terrible, but you'll get through this. We're all here for you."

Snow turned and patted Killian. "We're all here for both of you."

….

Blackbeard laid back against his pillows praying for the pain killing potion to take effect quickly. He had no idea what magic that trident packed, but it was potent enough to make a hardened pirate cry. Slowly the pain began to recede, and he relaxed and heaved a sigh of relief. The healers told him it was a good thing he'd awoken early that morning, but from his vantage point, the blessed unconsciousness was far more merciful.

"Better?" a man asked from the far side of the room. Blackbeard peered in that direction. Friar Tuck, he believed the man had introduced himself as. Friar Tuck the healer and spiritual leader of the Merry Men.

"Aye," Blackbeard said in a voice far weaker than he would have liked. "I know not what that potion might have been, but it has eased the pain considerably."

"Secret formula," the man said with a jolly laugh. "I can't have any of my flock learn my secrets; they may decide they no longer need me around, and then where will I be?"

Blackbeard smiled and waved to the chair near the head of the bed. "I would welcome some company should you be so inclined."

"But of course," he said, folding his rotund frame into the chair—a chair which groaned under the weight.

The physical pain finally under control, the emotional pain made itself felt. What manner of man had he become? What manner of man pursues vengeance with such intensity he allows a pregnant woman to be seriously injured, and her unborn baby to be killed? Frankly, he was shocked when the Lady Snow told him Hook and his lady had agreed to meet with him. He certainly wouldn't have done the man the same courtesy just after Anne and her baby died.

"That was quite the sigh, you heaved, my lad," the friar said with an assessing look. "Anything bothering you…besides the obvious."

Edward gave him an assessing look. "You're a friar, a man of God, are you not?"

"Aye, that I am."

"I would wager you've heard a fair few confessions in your day?"

Friar Tuck chuckled and rubbed his hands together. "I am the spiritual adviser to a band of thieves and outlaws. Aye, I believe I've heard nearly every confession in the book."

"Would…would you be opposed to hearing one more?"

The man pasted on a gentle smile, and then laid a gentle hand on his arm. "If you've a need to unburden yourself, I'd be pleased to listen."

"You know who I am, what I've done, don't you?" Blackbeard asked.

"Aye," the man shrugged. "I know the stories I've heard. I know what happened to Captain and Mrs. Jones. What I haven't heard is what you have to say."

Blackbeard nodded. "My father was a swindler and a cheat. What's more he was sorely abusive to my mother and even on occasion to my young sister and me. He..he killed my mother on the day a mob lynched him."

The friar gasped. Aye it was a grisly tale indeed.

"My sister and I were left alone in the world, utterly destitute," Blackbeard continued. "I was barely able to put food on the table, but I swore to myself I would never resort to becoming my father…and yet here I've become that and more."

Blackbeard talked steadily on for a quarter of an hour or more. He told the kindly old man everything—his meeting with Hornigold, becoming a pirate, Anne's predicament, his vow of vengeance, becoming Ursula's prisoner, attempting to kill Hook.

"As I stood there and watched the water rise, watched what looked like his last breath, I expected to feel jubilant, released, justified, but I didn't."

"What did you feel, lad?"

"Nothing," Blackbeard said bleakly. "Nothing but an uncomfortable feeling that I had taken a step from which I could never return, from which I could never be forgiven. There was that woman I'd hit lying unconscious against the rotting wall, blood everywhere. I thought I'd killed her too, and suddenly it all became clear."

"What did?"

"I had become my father. I had become a monster. I had allowed my hate to fester to such an extent that it was a ravenous beast that was near to devouring every last shred of goodness within me."

"It was your moment of truth," Friar Tuck said sagely.

"Aye, that it was," Blackbeard said tiredly, "and now, Friar. What am I to do? How can I ever make amends for the evil I've done throughout my life? How can I ever make amends to the evil I did Mrs. Jones?"

"Snow White told me you requested an audience with the Joneses?"

"Aye, that I did."

"Tell them what you told me," Friar Tuck said. "Admit your fault and beg forgiveness. It's amazing how freeing such a simple act can be."

There was a knock at the infirmary door, and Killian and Emma Jones entered. The windowless room was dark, lit only by a handful of candles, but there was no disguising the pain on Mrs. Jones's face, the grim line of Hook's mouth. They were in pain…in pain because of him.

"I'll leave you to your guests, my son," Friar Tuck said, grasping Blackbeard's shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze.

"Thank you Father," he said quietly. "You've been quite a comfort."

Blackbeard watched as the old man made his way from the room and then turned toward his newest guests. "Please, have a seat."

Emma took the seat Friar Tuck had just vacated, and Hook pulled up a second one beside her. The man leaned over and draped his arm protectively around his wife's shoulders. She leaned in to him, accepting his comfort, giving her own.

"Thank you for coming to me this morning," Blackbeard said formally. "I believe it's time we finally cleared the air."

The couple sat still and silently for a moment, and finally Hook nodded. "Aye, I believe you are right."

Emma seemed unable to look at him. She kept her eyes resolutely averted as though he were something obscene she wished to avoid looking at. Guilt ripped through him.

"Mrs. Jones," he said softly. She finally turned to look at him, forcing herself with the greatest difficulty if he didn't miss his guess.

"Yeah?" she said in a hard voice.

"I know no words of mine can erase the pain, the agony I've caused," he said heavily, "but I must tell you how desperately sorry I am for striking you. My quarrel was never with you, and it was never my intention to harm you, and certainly not your baby."

The tears filled her eyes at the mention of the babe. "But you did," she said, still in a hard voice.

"Aye," he said, averting his own gaze. "I did, and I would do anything in the world to undo that act."

"You talked about regret about me, about the baby," Emma said, "but even if that was an accident, you deliberately tried to kill my husband."

Blackbeard looked at the man in question. Hook's face gave nothing away. "Aye," Blackbeard admitted. "I allowed my pain, my thirst for vengeance to rule me. Can you understand that?"

He watched as Hook lowered his eyes and faintly nodded. "Aye," Hook said. "I spent three hundred years trying to avenge the man who'd killed the woman I loved."

"Yes," Blackbeard said. "I had heard the stories of the heartbreak that drove the fearsome Captain Hook, of your daring exploits, of your ruthlessness."

Hook grimaced. "Like most such tales, they were greatly exaggerated."

"Indeed."

Hook took a deep breath and then met Blackbeard's gaze. "I in turn must beg your forgiveness."

Emma turned sharply to look at her husband. His words seemed to shock her.

"My actions toward your sister were deplorable," Hook said simply. "I once told my Emma that I'm always a gentleman, but my actions with your sister prove that statement to be a lie. I used her and discarded her as though she was an object for my pleasure rather than a woman worthy of respect."

The familiar pain and anger hit yet again, and Blackbeard sucked in a deep breath. A part of him wanted to lash out, wanted to punish, wanted to destroy, but he shoved the part aside. When he'd chosen to go to the Enchanted Forest people for help in defeating Ursula, he'd turned aside from his vengeance once and for all.

"Please know," Hook said in a pained voice, "that I had no idea your sister was turned out of her house; no idea there was a child. Had I known, I would have done all in my power to aid your sister and my child. I would have provided her anything she needed."

Blackbeard looked at him assessingly for a moment, and then nodded.

"I forgive you your actions against Anne," Blackbeard said.

"Thank you," Hook said sincerely.

They fell into an uncomfortable silence for a moment, and then Emma cleared her throat. "I've got something I need to say."

Blackbeard nodded, apprehensive at her tone, knowing he deserved anything she dished out to him.

Emma took a deep breath and then looked directly into his eyes. "I wanted to thank you for saving my life down in Ursula's castle. If you hadn't shoved me aside, I would be dead right now."

"I must second my wife's sentiments," Hook said earnestly. "I can never thank you enough for the service you rendered to us that day."

Blackbeard looked aside. "It was the least I could do after the harm I rendered you both. I beg of you. Please forgive me my actions terrible day."

Hook and Emma looked at each other, communicating as effectively through mere glances as most did through eloquent speeches. Hook reached down and laced his fingers with his wife's. A single tear made its way down her cheek. Finally she nodded silently.

"Aye," Hook said thickly. "We forgive you."

Blackbeard offered his hand, and Hook shook it firmly. "Thank you."

Friar Tuck was right. The freedom that came with confession and reconciliation was more profound than anything he'd ever experienced.

….

Regina stepped from the water and ran a hand down her aquamarine dress. Completely dry. Sometimes Rumple's magic positively amazed her. Aurora had complained about attending the wedding reception under the sea, concerned about the havoc the salt water would have on her bride's maids gown and perfectly coiffed hair.

Rumple merely rolled his eyes and waved his hands. A sudden glow of magic had descended upon the whole wedding party and it was as though the water simply couldn't touch them.

"My lady?" Robin called from behind her. "You left the celebration early. Is aught the matter?"

Regina turned and smiled, reaching her hand out to her true love. He caught it in his own hand and brought it to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. The butterflies started fluttering madly in her stomach. There was something far more potent than even magic that drew her to this man.

"No," Regina said carefully. "Nothing's the matter, precisely. I've just been thinking."

He studied her face. "It would seem your thoughts are troubled."

How was she even to broach this subject? She thought she knew how he would react, but what if she were wrong?

"The reception will be breaking up before long," Regina said looking out over the sea, "and then Triton will create the portal back to Storybrooke."

"Is that a bad thing?" Robin asked looking at her carefully.

"No," she said drawing out the word. "It's just….Robin, I have to go back. My life is there now. I'm the mayor; my son is there. And…well, the Regina who belonged in the Enchanted Forest no longer exists. She's been gone for some time how."

Robin took her in his arms and kissed her gently. "Well, I know it. She's become the woman I love more than my own life."

Regina returned the kiss with relish. How she loved this man! And that was why she had to do what was best for him…him and Roland.

"But there is something else I know," she said, a slight wobble to her voice.  
"What's that, my love?"

"Your whole life is here, in the Enchanted Forest, yours and Roland's. Your friends, your livelihood, everything."

Regina had turned away from him as she spoke, desperate to keep the tears at bay. He turned her gently back to her and spoke more fervently than she'd ever heard him speak before. "You're wrong, Regina. _You_ are my everything. I know you must go back to your home, and that is why Roland and I must come to this Storybrooke as well."

"You'd…" she began and then cleared her throat. "You'd do that for me? Leave your home and everything you've ever known."

He smiled tenderly down to her. "Haven't you realized yet that I would do anything for you?"

Regina crushed him to her and kissed him with everything within her. When was the last time someone had loved her so completely? When was the last time someone had put _her_ first? It was beautiful and terrifying and overwhelming and so achingly amazing that she thought her heart would burst with the wonder of it.

And with a burning flash of clarity, she knew she never wanted to be parted from this man again. She knew what she must do. She pulled from the kiss and took his hands within her own.

"Robin, I love you," she said, tears standing out in her eyes. "More than I knew it was even possible to love another person."

He smiled and cupped her face in one hand. "And I you, my darling."

She smiled and continued. "Those six months without you and Roland showed me that I can't live without you. I can exist, but I cannot live. Not really. And then coming back here and finding you, but not really finding you, being separated even while we were together. It was agony."

"I'm so sorry, love."

"No," she said with a vehement shake of her head. "You are not at fault. Besides, dwelling on the pain of the past wasn't my point anyway."

"What is your point then?"

"Ask you a question," she said, her heart beginning to hammer relentlessly.

"As I said, yes, I'll come to Storybrooke with you."  
"That wasn't the question I meant to ask you."

"What then?"

"Robin," she began. "Robin, I don't want to be separated from you ever again. I want to share my life, my heart, my whole world with you. I want us to be a family, all three of us. I guess what I'm trying to ask is…will you marry me?"

He stared at her for a moment, and then crushed her to him. "Yes, of course I will!"

He kissed her for long moments, and Regina basked in the wonder of the moment.

"When?" he asked when they finally came up for air. "When will you become my wife?"

"Now," Regina said impulsively. "Today. This moment. I have no desire to wait another second."

"Now?!" he yelped.

"Yes," she said taking his hand and leading him toward the castle. "Friar Tuck is still at the castle, he can marry us, and there are plenty of merry men around to be our official witnesses."

"But…but Regina," he said caressing her face. "You've no dress, no attendants, no music, no flowers. You are deserving of the grandest wedding any realm has to offer."

Regina shook her head and covered his hand with her own. "I don't care about dresses or flowers or attendants or any of the trappings. I had all of that with my first marriage, and I was utterly miserable. All I need is you."

"You're sure?" he asked. "You're absolutely certain this is what you want?"

"Yes," she said with a tender smile. "I'm positive. You are my true love, what reason have we to wait? Besides, I saw how crazy Storybrooke got preparing for Hook and Emma's wedding. No way I want to subject myself to that."

"Very well," Robin said, leaning forward to plant a gentle kiss on her lips. "Let us return to the castle. I would like nothing better than to marry you today."

To say it was a simple wedding would be a massive understatement. It was nothing like the pomp and splendor of Ariel and Erik's wedding earlier that day. No one was present but Friar Tuck and Mulan and Little John who acted as official witnesses. The entire ceremony took no more than ten minutes, but Regina wouldn't have had it any other way. When Friar Tuck declared them husband and wife and they shared their first kiss as a married couple, Regina was utterly convinced that nothing could have been more perfect.

"Well, wife," Robin said five minutes later. "What say we find our son and tell him the news?"

_Our son_. Was it possible a heart could burst from happiness? "Well husband, I think that is an excellent idea."

….

_Storybrooke, two hours later_

Henry sat at the Charming's booth at Granny's listlessly sipping at his hot cocoa. Where were they? His whole family, aside from his dad, had left for the Enchanted Forest _two months ago!_ How long could it possibly take to defeat whatever enemy they were up against? For heaven's sake! They'd defeated Peter freaking Pan in less than two weeks!

They needed him; he knew it. He had the heart of the truest believer. He'd managed to bring Emma to break the first curse. He could do _something_.

"Hey buddy," Neal said from his seat across the table, "what's on your mind? I know something's bothering you. "

Henry shrugged and looked out the window at the twilit street. "Seems like they should be home by now."

"You're missing your moms," Tinkerbelle said from Neal's side.

"Yeah," Henry said, turning back to them. He saw the hurt look on his dad's face and rushed to continue. "But I'm enjoying the time I've gotten to spend with the two of you. It's just…what if something…happened to them?"

"Even at seventeen, your mom was one of the toughest people I've ever known," Neal said, taking a bite of his burger. "Don't worry; she can take care of herself. And as for Regina…well, she didn't get to be the Evil Queen for nothing. I'm sure they're fine. This bad guys just taking a little longer to get rid of, that's all."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Henry said turning away again. His dad tried; he really did, but he just didn't get it. Something was wrong, he knew it. He had to find a way to get to the Enchanted Forest, but in order to do that, he couldn't let his dad or Tinkerbelle suspect anything."

"There's the spirit!" Neal said with enthusiasm. "Hey, if we're going to get to that movie on time, we've got to get going. Better finish up that hot chocolate."

"In a minute," Henry said, thinking hard. "Got to go to the bathroom first."

"Alright, go ahead," Neal said.

_Alright? Go ahead?_ Henry shook his head as he headed toward the bathroom and then out the back door. His dad needed to work on this whole parenting thing. Either one of his moms would have seen through that excuse in a nanosecond.

Now, how was he going to get to the Enchanted Forest? He had to find some sort of magical item, but where could he find that? _Gold's shop_. Yeah! That was perfect. Surly his grandfather would have something that could help him.

Henry made it to the pawn shop door, looked both ways, and then pulled a hairpin from his coat. Just after returning to Storybrooke, Killian had taught him how to pick a lock—while making him swear up and down and sideways never to tell his mom about it. If he could just get that last gear to turn…

And then he heard it, a whooshing sound, like a giant whirlpool. Magic. Something magical was definitely happening. He turned back toward the street just as a portal opened and roughly deposited his moms, his step-dad, both sets of grandparents, Robin and Roland onto the main street of town.

"Henry!" Emma yelled in excitement.

"Mom!" he answered, running to the group as fast as his legs would carry him.

They were back! At long last they were all finally back!

_Notes:_

_-So there you have it. Killian and Emma got interrupted yet again, Blackbeard, Killian and Emma had a nice little reconciliation, Robin and Regina eloped, and the whole gang got back to Storybrooke just as Henry was trying to find a way to get to the Enchanted Forest to find them._

_-I knew I wanted Robin and Regina to end up together by the end of this story, but I hadn't originally planned on having them marry yet—maybe get engaged at the very end. However, the elopement just seemed to fit. I figure Regina probably has really bad memories of her first wedding—with all the pomp and splendor that no doubt accompanied that. That being the case, I find it totally reasonable that she wouldn't want to do the whole big white wedding thing again. And, as she said, they are a confirmed true love couple; true love's kiss restored the rest of Robin's memories. That being the case, was there really any reason for them to wait? It wasn't like they had to take time to make sure they _really _wanted to be together. I'm sure Roland was thrilled when he found out Regina was officially his new mom._

_-Up next: the last chapter! The whole town has a big welcome home party at granny's to welcome everyone home. Regina and Robin find an interesting way to share their news, and Killian has a little surprise up his sleeve for Emma—in the form of a surprise honeymoon—alone this time. They don't have a whole lot of time with Snow and Charming's baby so close, but they plan to take full advantage of the time they have. I'll also tie up a few loose ends—like what became of Blackbeard and who's running the Enchanted Forest, and all of that._


	30. Epilogue

Epilogue

_Storybrooke, present day_

"Wow, you guys actually got to go to _King Triton's_ kingdom?" Henry asked. "What was it like?"

"Wet," Roland answered simply.

Regina shared an amused look with her new husband and then they both laughed.

"Four burgers and fries coming up," Ruby said, placing platters of food before each of them.

"Wow," Roland said, unconsciously mimicking Henry. He picked up a French fry and examined it carefully. "What are these?"

Henry chuckled and turned to the boy. "Oh yeah, kid. I forgot you've never been here before. Let me show you how to enjoy a hamburger and French fries. And just wait till you try soft drinks!"

Regina smiled indulgently at her two boys and then chuckled when she saw the dubious way her man was eyeing his burger.

"You pick it up," she said, demonstrating, "and then you take a bite."

Robin did as she instructed and a pleased grin wreathed his face. "Your realm has many strange and perplexing things, my love, but it certainly can be commended on its food."

"_Our _realm," Regina corrected.

"Aye," he agreed with an indulgent smile, "our realm."

The love and utter adoration in his eyes was overwhelming, and Regina leaned over and kissed him.

"Ugh!" Henry said in disgust. "Not you guys too! It's bad enough already with my mom and Killian!"

"Papa and 'Gina do that all the time," Roland said with a grimace.

"Well, my lads," Robin said, draping an arm around Regina's shoulders, "I'm afraid it's something you must get used to. My Regina and I have six months to make up for."

The two boys shared a disgusted look. "Great!" Henry said folding his arms and rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, great!" Roland echoed, mirroring his step-brother's posture and expression. Regina smiled, feeling happiness bubble up within her. It seemed Roland already had a major case of hero worship on Henry, and Henry would love being a big brother. That is, once he _knew_ he was a big brother. As yet she and Robin had told no one but Roland about their clandestine wedding. Regina was waiting for just the right moment to announce their big news.

Regina looked around. The diner was positively packed. Within minutes, it seemed, the whole town knew about their return to Storybrooke—thanks in large part to Storybrooke's own personal town crier.

"Wonderful news, everyone!" Leroy had hollered as he ran down Main Street. "They're back! Snow, Charming, Emma, Killian, Gold, Belle, Regina, Robin and Roland are back!"

The townsfolk had been so excited that they'd planned an impromptu welcome home party on the spot. Granny had invited everyone to her diner and was in such a festive mood, she offered free food and soft drinks.

Throughout the evening, a steady stream of people had made their way past the Hood/Mills booth and the Charming/Jones booth and the Gold/Cassidy booth expressing their delight at the travelers' safe return and asking for the particulars of what had happened. Regina felt like she'd told their story fifty times already.

It was really quite amazing how everything had turned out. Blackbeard—Edward Teach, actually, the man had chosen to go back to his given name—had made a full confession of his crimes with such eloquence and heartfelt sincerity that Snow and Charming had pardoned him on the spot. In fact, they'd gone a step farther than that. They'd offered him a position as captain of the Enchanted Forest royal navy as soon as he'd sufficiently healed from his wounds.

Of course, given the fact that the Enchanted Forest didn't yet even _have_ a navy and Edward would have to build the organization from the ground up insured the man had his work cut out for him.

"So, since you were in the navy, Killian, are you going to give him some pointers?" Henry asked looking toward the booth behind him. "Hey, where _is_ Killian?"

"No idea, kid," Emma said, popping a fry in her mouth. He went off about half an hour ago with Marco and some of the dwarfs. Said he has some sort of surprise for me."

Henry shrugged and went back to his dinner. The steady stream of Storybrooke well-wishers continued.

"So, Regina," Archie said, stopping by her booth. "You look happier than I've seen you in a good half a year."

"Regina smiled and laced her fingers with her husband's. "Yeah," she said with a tender smile in Robin's direction. "I am. I really am."

"I'm glad," Archie said, placing a hand on her shoulder, then he looked over at Robin and Roland. "And as for you two, I know Storybrooke can be an overwhelming place when you're not used to it. My door is always open if you need to talk."

Grumpy was their next visitor. He stood in between Regina's booth and Emma and the Charmings'. "So, guys, I have a question."

"What's that, Leroy?" Charming asked lounging back in his seat, his arm casually draped around his very-pregnant wife.

"With all of you here, who's running the Enchanted Forest?"

"When we got back," Snow said, "Philip and Aurora were in the castle. They'd come to check on our land."

"Yeah," Charming agreed, "but they'd been gone from their own land for far longer than was good for them, so we made some different provisions before we all came back here."

"Yeah?" Leroy asked. "What are those?"

"We appointed Little John and his men as stewards and caretakers in our absence," Charming answered. "They'll deal with the day to day business and keep peace within the realm."

"And we really can go back whenever we want?" Ruby asked, setting a mug of hot chocolate with cinnamon before Emma.

"Yeah," Emma said. "All we need to do is get in touch with Ariel, and she'll…"

Emma was interrupted by the return of her husband. He stepped before her and sketched a flamboyant bow.

"I've come to steal you away, Swan," he said with a devilish grin.

"Steal me away?" Emma asked with a grin. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Just this, _Mrs. Jones_. We've been married for ten weeks and we've yet to have a proper honeymoon."

"Yeah, well, it's kind of hard to fit a honeymoon in around nasty villains and realm jumping."

"Aye," Killian said, "but as peace has been restored and we've been promised a way to cross realms whenever we choose, I must insist we take advantage of the opportunity before anything else untoward happens."

Emma shook her head in amusement. "But Killian, we just got _back_. How can you steal me away again already?"

He sent her an irreverent grin. "I, love, am a pirate," he said. "Thievery is my specialty."

"Oh go on, Emma," Regina said with a grin. "If there's one thing I've learned about that stubborn pirate of yours, it's that he'll get his way in the end."

"But…" Emma protested, "there's probably a ton of work piled up at the sheriff's station. I can't just leave my dad with all of that!"

Charming took Emma's hand. "Go on, honey," he said. "I can take care of whatever's going on at the sheriff's station. It'll be kind of nice to get back into the swing of things."

"Besides," Snow reasoned. "You don't take advantage now, you probably won't be able to get away for quite a while. There're only two weeks before this baby comes, and I'm sure I'll need all the help I can get."

Snow gave Killian a sharp look. "You are planning to return before the baby comes, aren't you?"

Killian bowed again and placed a kiss on his mother-in-law's hand. "We wouldn't miss the young prince's birth for the world."

"But…" Emma protested once more, but Regina heard the resolve in her voice crumbling.

"Oh, come on mom!" Henry said. "I'll keep Gram and Gramps company while you're away."

Emma looked around at all of them for another moment and then smiled, putting her hand in the one Killian held out to her. "Okay," she said. "I could definitely go for a week or so relaxing…_alone_…with my husband."

"Oh, we shall be alone, love," Killian said in a low growl, leaning down to capture her lips. "I've taken precautions to be sure no one knows where we're going. In the event any other ne'er-do-wells appear threatening Storybrooke or any of the realms, our friends and relatives must simply do without the savior. For the next week, you are _my_ savior and my savior alone."

Regina smiled as she watched the Jones's walk hand in hand from the diner. With her heart so full of happiness, she could bask in that of those around her as well.

"Better finish up, folks," Granny said from her perch behind the bar. "Almost closing time."

Regina looked over at Roland who was yawning and blinking slowly. "Yes," she said, "and this little guy needs to get to bed."

Granny walked over to Robin. "You're welcome to one of my rooms if you want," she said. "I know you don't have any Storybrooke currency, but go ahead and take a room, and then pay me back whenever you can."

"Thank you for your generosity, my lady," Robin said with a twinkle in his eye, "but I'm afraid I must decline. Roland and I already have a place to live."

"Where?" Granny asked.

"The mayor's mansion, of course," Regina said with a grin.

There was silence in the diner. Finally Snow White spoke up. "You're…you're going to be living with Regina?" she asked carefully.

"But of course," Robin said, lacing his fingers with Regina's and smiling tenderly. "Where else would a husband live than with his wife?"

"Husband? Wife?" Snow asked. "Are you _married_?"

Regina nodded. "We kind of eloped late this afternoon."

The diner exploded with excitement and congratulations. Snow got to her feet with difficulty, waddled over and hugged Regina. "I'm so excited for you! I knew you two would end up together!"

"Absolutely," Tinkerbelle said smugly. "Fairy dust doesn't lie. Just think how much time you could have saved if you'd listened to me in the first place!"

Regina rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "I'll be sure to listen to you next time, fairy."

"Yes!" Henry said, pumping a fist in the air. "This is _awesome_. I have both Captain Hook and Robin Hood for step fathers!"

"Indeed, lad," Robin said with a grin. "Quite a notorious family you find yourself part of."

"Wait!" Roland said, forgetting his sleepiness in his excitement. "If Papa is your step-father, that means you're my brother!"

"Yeah," Henry said, ruffling the little boy's hair. "How will you like having the truest believer for a brother?"

"I'll love it!" Roland said, eyes shining.

"You two need to head out," Snow said with excitement. "It's your wedding night, after all. Henry and Roland can stay with us."

"I don't know," Regina said uncertainly. "It's Roland's first night in a new land, I hate to leave him."

"Don't worry, mom," Henry said with a grin. "Roland will be fine with us. He knows Gram and Gramps, and I've got _lots_ to show him. Roland, how would you like to learn about video games and TV?"

"Yeah!" Roland said. Regina grinned. There was no way her little lad had any idea what Henry was talking about, but it was clear that in his eyes his step-brother hung the moon and stars. "Can I stay with Henry, Papa? Please?"

"If it's alright with the prince and princess."

"Of course it's alright," Charming said, coming to drape his arm around his wife.

"Well, then," Regina said, "Robin, it looks like our wedding night awaits."

The look he gave her sent heat coursing from her head clear to her toes.

"Shall I escort you home then?" he asked in a low, intimate tone.

"Absolutely," she said with a grin. "I only have one concern."

"What's that my darling?"

"What on earth are we going to do with ourselves in that big house all alone?"

His grin was positively sinful. "I'm an endlessly resourceful man, my love. I've no doubt I can think of plenty of activities to keep us occupied for the next _several_ hours."

Regina blushed at the intensity in his eyes. Oh yes, she thought she would enjoy his _resourcefulness_.

"Yeah, go ahead, you guys," Henry said. As Regina walked arm in arm out the door with her husband, she overheard Henry saying something to Snow about something called "Operation Lion Heart," which, from what little she heard, sounded like a surprise wedding reception her son was starting to plan for her.

Regina thought she should pinch herself. How could so much joy be hers? Surely she was dreaming.

As soon as she and Robin stepped from the diner into the waiting darkness, he took her into his arms and showered her with kisses so full of passion, they would likely enflame the whole street pretty soon.

On second thought, she best avoid the pinching. If this was a dream, Regina never wanted to awaken.

….

Emma glanced quizzically at Killian as they walked to the gangplank. "Your big surprise was the _Jolly Roger_?" she asked. "I know this may come as a bit of a shock, but I was aware you own a ship."

He chuckled and leaned down to peck her on the lips. "It's not the _Jolly _herself that is my surprise, love. It's the fact that I've commissioned her to sail us on our honeymoon."

"So, where precisely is she taking us?"

Killian shrugged. "Wherever she chooses," he said. "My lovely lady is a marvel. She's capable of setting her own course and sailing herself. The destination is not the point anyway, darling. It is the time alone upon her that I eagerly anticipate."

Emma shot him a dubious glance. "Look, Killian," she said carefully, "I like your 'lovely lady' as much as the next person, but…well, I assume you want us to spend large amounts of time in your cabin…"

"Oh, most assuredly!" he said with a wicked grin.

"…and I've been on that bed of yours. That thing's barely big enough for one person, let alone two."

"Ah," he said with a grin. "That, darling, is the other part of my surprise. Come, let me show you the improvements I've made to the captain's quarters."

She let him take her hand and followed him below deck. She looked around and gasped. There, where his tiny bed once stood was the largest, most luxurious looking bed she'd ever seen. The headboard was intricately carved with a swan and an excellent replica of the _Jolly Roger_. It was positively breathtaking.

"I'll take it from the fact that your mouth is hanging open that you approve, love," he said with a smirk and a quick kiss to the nape of her neck. "As you said, I plan to spend _long hours_ with you within this bed, so I wished it to comfortably accommodate us."

"When did you even have time to get this? How?" Emma asked, making an effort to close her gaping mouth."

"Just before the wedding, I commissioned Marco to make the bed for us," Killian said. "I knew that we would eventually wish to sail the realms together, and I wanted to be able to take you in comfort. And then tonight, Marco and the dwarfs helped me to move it in."

Emma turned and threw her arms around his neck. "How did I manage to get such a thoughtful husband who goes to such trouble to make sure I'm comfortable?"

He kissed her deeply. "It's the least I can do for the most bloody amazing woman in any of the realms."

She took his hand and started to lead him to their newest piece of furniture. "So sailor, how about it? Should we try that thing out, make sure it works?"

He grinned at her but held back. "Oh assuredly, soon enough darling, but not quite yet."

"Really?" she asked in surprise.

"Aye, 'really'," he answered tugging her back toward the stairs. "My favorite part of any voyage is the setting sail. I like to stand at the rail, let the salty sea breeze ruffle my hair, and watch as the shoreline slowly disappears from view. Would you…would you share the view with me?"

"Of course," she said.

They walked hand in hand toward the deck, and settled against the railing. Killian took her into his arms, and clasped together they watched as Storybrooke disappeared from view.

"I can see why you enjoy the sea so much," Emma said softly. "There is something peaceful and…I don't know…calming about standing on deck and feeling the gentle rocking of the waves."

"Aye," he said simply, playing with the ends of her hair. "It's been in my blood for as long as I can remember."

They fell into a peaceful silence, and Emma's mind flitted over the past two and a half months and all they had been through—both the beautiful moments and the tragically painful ones. She sighed deeply.

Killian pushed away from her enough to see her face in the bright moonlight. "Is aught the matter, love?"

"Not…really," she said carefully. "I'm happy to be back, glad we defeated Ursula and everything worked out, but I miss the baby. Despite how sick she made me, I loved her. I loved having her inside of me."

"Her?" Killian asked settling Emma back within his arms and rubbing her back in a soothing way.

"Yeah," Emma said with a shrug. "I know it was too soon to know yet, but I just have this…feeling that our baby was a little girl."

"I would have liked to have a daughter," Killian said, and Emma could hear the wistfulness in his voice.

"Yeah," Emma said, "me too."

"Maybe someday, love."

"Yeah." They fell into silence for another long moment. Emma enjoyed the rocking motion of the ship, her husband's gentle caresses, the love that radiated between them. "The worst part is this emptiness. This knowledge that I never got to know her; never even got to see her. What would she have been like?"

"I'd imagine she'd be just as fiery, just as breathtakingly beautiful, just as stubborn, just as much of a marvel as her mother."

Emma smiled and kissed Killian's chest. "Either that or she'd be as thoughtful and loving as her father."

"She'd be the best of both of us, lass," Killian said softly.

"Yeah."

"You know Emma," Killian said reflectively. "I've come to the conclusion that we never truly lose the ones we love. I'd like to think our little lass is waiting for us; that she'll be there to greet us when it's our own time to pass on."

"I like that thought," Emma said. "It makes everything a little easier to deal with."

"Aye," he agreed. "My mother lost a child in between Liam and me. She and my father named the little one. I think it comforted them. We could do the same."

"Hope," Emma said quickly. "I'd like to call her Hope."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful little life."

"So, I was thinking," Emma continued as the lights of Storybrooke became increasingly more and more faint. "Killian, I want to try again, give Hope a few little brothers or sisters. Maybe not right away; maybe after we get settled into our new house and life in Storybrooke, but I definitely want to try again. Would you be alright with that?"

He hugged her tightly. "Alright? Lass, I'd like nothing better."

"Good."

The last light from shore was swallowed by the darkness. Killian stepped from the railing and gave her the grin that was mischief incarnate. "Now darling, you made me a promise you know."

"Yeah?" she asked, arms crossed, smile on her face, "When was that?"

"Aye," he said, nodding in mock seriousness. "Just before our nuptials. You promised me that if I were to wear a tuxedo for the ceremony, you would see to it that I had no need to wear anything on our honeymoon."

"Oh yeah," she said. Her pulse began to race in a way that only he could elicit. "Well, I'm a woman of my word. How about we head below deck and get you a little more…comfortable?"

He began to grin in the way that sent shivers of anticipation throughout her body. "That, darling, is the best idea you've had all day."

The end!

_Notes:_

_-And they all lived happily ever afterwards…at least until the next big, bad, power-hungry evil villain showed up in Storybrooke to attempt to destroy their lives. :-)_

_-With that, my AU trilogy of "A Wish Your Heart Makes", "Getting to I Do" and "Mysterious Fathoms Below" comes to an end._

_-I originally planned to have Blackbeard get some sort of punishment for his crimes, but then I had originally planned on having him be much more ruthless and evil (for example; my original plan was for him to deliberately beat Emma with the express purpose of forcing Killian to watch him kill their unborn baby—kind of an eye for an eye sort of situation). It turns out that simply wasn't who my Blackbeard turned out to be. Besides that, pretty much no one (even Rumple who has been shown to be extremely ruthless) has been made to do any kind of jail time or anything like that to pay for their crimes, so why should Blackbeard?_

_-I wanted Killian and Emma to get a little closure with the baby situation, so that's what spawned their conversation on the deck of the _Jolly Roger_._

_-I ended this story with Snow still pregnant mainly because I didn't want to try to come up with a name for the baby! Obviously with Neal still being alive in this version of events, having them name the baby Neal would just be weird. Actually, I thought it was weird even in the actual show with Neal dead. I get that they were trying to honor Neal for giving his life so they all had a chance to defeat Zelena, but….I mean, they named their son after their daughter's ex-lover. To me, that's just kind of… awkward._

_-Incidentally, if you read "A Wish Your Heart Makes," you might remember that both Killian and Emma had dreams at one point or another about their children in the future. It wasn't absolutely clear in that story, but those dreams were prophetic. In my story world, Emma gets pregnant again about four months or so after "Mysterious Fathoms Below" ends. They end up having a little girl that they name Rose after Emma's foster mother. About three years later, they have a little boy that they name Liam for obvious reasons. They may have more children later, but that's as far as my imagination has taken them. Also, one other little detail: Sir Galahad (Emma's foster dad, known as Greg Smith in the Land Without Magic) comes back to our realm and seeks out his wife and son. His son, Tommy, has his own life and family in Boston, but his wife, Rose, accompanies him back to Camelot. If you want to know the fates of anyone else just ask! I may not have worked it out yet, but I'll come up with something for you._

_-And that's the end of my fanfiction literary output for a while. These stories kind of take over my life, and I really need to focus on some things in real life for a while. I may have a one or two shot here or there throughout the beginning of season 4, but I probably won't write another long story until at least the winter hiatus._

_-Finally, I want to say a big THANK YOU to everyone who's followed, favorited and/or reviewed this story! Your support really means a lot to me and motivates me!_


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